Forgotten Realms Angels and Demons
by JKnight2025
Summary: Set in the Forgotten Realms, seven adventurers band together for what should be a simple errand. However, things get complicated. Like all good things, events spiral out and they are set on a path for greatness. Some will rise, some will fall, others will become more than any thought they could. These are their stories...
1. Chapter 1

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

By Kristopher Rose

Part I

This story, starts in a tavern. Sell swords mercenaries and adventurers have gathered around. Some are celebrating a successful campaign; others are preparing to go on their first. Many are drinking, some shouldn't be. The atmosphere is a mixture of jovial and apprehension, something only seen in places such as this.

Into this place of life and debauchery walked a hooded woman, her eyes cast down. Behind her is a Dwarf warrior, though they aren't traveling together yet. From another entrance came a man in loose, but fitting clothes. They marked him as a monk, the seeming glow around him and the vibrancy of his eyes, marked him as celestial touched. He stepped aside as a lone Elf, dressed in leathers and with a wild air, walked past him.

They both catch the attention of a young man in plate armor. He has the air of a holy warrior, and looking at his age, fresh from his training. He called them over, a boisterous voice that managed to raise above the din. The two new comers looked at one another quizzically, before moving towards the man. Meanwhile another set of eyes spied suspiciously on the tavern itself. Called a "thief" or "rogue," the Half-Elf cared not. Her coin purse was full enough, and if needed it could get fuller.

What she didn't expect was for the man to look up and catch him. The rogue averted her eyes, cursing the divine blooded. They seemed to have a sixth sense, and were never that easy to pick pocket. Not that she knew anything about that, she only borrowed what the rich had in excess. Still she checked back moments later, but the man was engrossed in conversation with the armored man.

She noticed another man enter, long robes, haughty demeanor, probably a wizard. Wizards were hard, but not too bad. They tended to be so stuck in their books or self-importance, that stealing from them was easy. Keeping it was another issue, for wizards were also tricky. Spells, cantrips and traps, all could make your haul, your last. Besides this one looked like even more trouble than she wanted for today. Unless the boon for success got richer.

"Friends, I am Walton, Paladin of Tyr," the man in plate introduced himself. "What brings you travelers here on this find day?"

The Elf woman bowed, "My circle says I needed some adventure, that I was too restless. You may call me, Lorinda Alaunar."

"Kirann Lichtus, at your service," the man in loose robes said. As he said his name, his eyes seemed to glow momentarily. "I'm a monk from nearby monastery."

"You're an Aasimar, aren't you, sir?" Walton asked, enthusiasm bubbling to the top. "My swordsmanship trainer was one as well."

"We are drawn to service, and holy orders," Kirann replied back.

Walton relaxed a little, seeming to be more at ease, "I'm glad I ran into you. My order has charged me with hunting down some bandits that stole from a local town. I could use the help of a mistress of the wild and a holy born."

"How many bandits are we talking about?" Lorinda asked. Her long black hair shifted slightly.

"Witnesses place them around ten to fifteen," Walton explained. "My order gave me a purse to pay for some assistance."

"Do you know where their base or camp is?" Lorinda continued.

Walton shook his head, "The townspeople said they headed west."

"Of course, they could have doubled back or changed direction," Kirann added. "Do you think you could track them, Lorinda?"

The Elf nodded, "Should be fairly easy. I'd like to even the odds out a bit more."

"The Dwarf looks tough, and the wizard over there may be willing," Kirann added in. "There is a thief in the corner, they tend to have a skillset that is conducive to success."

"A thief, is that wise?" the paladin didn't seem happy.

Kirann nodded, "To catch a thief, it helps to think like one."

"Besides, pay well enough and you may well earn her allegiance," Lorinda explained. "My circle has used them from time to time. Costs, but predictable at least. Unless someone pays more, that is."

The paladin still didn't seem sure, but felt it unwise to argue with her, "We shall see."

The hooded woman watched with intensity. Her mark was itching, meaning her patron wanted something. It drew her attention to the three people at the other table, and she listened to their conversation. At first, she was curious why her patron would be interested. Normally it was only after knowledge, secrets, things people would rather stay hidden.

She got something out of it too, but it was more than power. Walking about, under the sun without having a mob after her was a good thing. She had repaid what happened to her parents though. She had made sure of that. Since then she has wandered around, following her patron's demands.

"Follow the paladin and the monk," a deep gravely voice came from her mark, one that only she could hear. "Watch the druid, she is more perceptive than you think."

She pulled her hood, covering more of her face, "I'm not sure that is a good idea. The monk looks Aasimar, they don't get along with my kind."

"My glamour protects you," the voice reminded her. "Keep your wits and you'll be fine."

She reluctantly got up and went over to the table with the other three. The Aasimar nodded towards her, and his gaze seemed to go straight through her. She almost wilted, but managed to sit at their table. The man looked away, only for the paladin and Elf to give her the once over.

"I couldn't help but overhear your situation," she said. "I'm Raven, and I have skills that might be of use."

"What skills would those be?" Walton asked.

Raven gave a slight smile, "I can read most languages, and I'm not bad in a fight."

The Elf looked over her, and gave a curious look. "I don't sense any natural magic, but your blade has an aura of power around it."

"One with such skills is always useful," Kirann leaned back in his chair.

The Half-Elf rogue started across the tavern floor. She had an appointment with a contact about some gold to be made. Besides the wizard was giving her the chills. Best to move on, as her instincts had never failed her before, about when danger was afoot. She almost made it to the door when in walked Marshal Goodman.

There was the barest instance where the good marshal almost didn't recognize her. However, before the rogue could move, he had a hand around her arm. Drug across the floor to a corner table, she was roughly shoved into a chair. Instinctively she went to her weapons, only to find the marshal's dagger at her throat.

"Well Val, I finally caught up with you," Marshal Goodman sneered. "After all the stunts you pulled, now you will be brought to justice."

"I didn't do anything!" Val countered back, adding under her breath, "Nothing that you think I did, anyway."

The marshal smacked her up the side of the head, "Cute! I have Lord Byron's oath that you swindled him out three hundred gold."

"Lord Byron is an idiot, but I haven't been near him," Val shot back, and received another head slap as a reward. "You can do this all day, but that doesn't change anything!"

He leaned into her space, "We'll see how you like being locked up while we sort this out."

"Excuse me," a voice made the marshal jump, and draw his sword. "If I may inquire, what is her crime?"

Marshal Goodman turned to face the newcomer, and the rogue recognized the monk from the other table. Up close he seemed to be glowing, his coloring more saturated than anyone she had ever seen before. However, what struck her was the radiance of peace that rolled off of him.

"Who are you?" the marshal demanded.

"Kirann Lichtus," he answered. "What is this young woman accused of?"

Marshal Goodman puffed up his chest, maximizing his presence. It was meant to put Kirann off, show dominance and control the situation. That is why he stood with his hands near his weapon's belt. The sword in his right hand, rested tip down into the floor. The monk, Kirann, though didn't seem phased at all.

"She is accused by Lord Byron of theft, fraud and the loss of his coin purse just moments ago," Marshal Goodman finally said.

"Ah, I see, well she's been here for at least half an hour," Kirann told the marshal. "My group and I were eyeing her to help us track down some bandits."

Marshal Goodman eyed the monk, "That doesn't excuse her other actions."

"Accused, not convicted," Kirann said. "Were there any witnesses to these deeds?"

The marshal paused before thinking it over, "Lord Byron said to arrest her, so she is to be arrested."

"I see, what about her trial?" Kirann asked. "Who represents her?"

"The judge will decide her fate," Marshal Goodman smiled.

Kirann flicked out his hand, "Let me help you along then. This is her coin purse, feel how light it is."

Val, had to double check, her coin purse was gone. That monk was fast! She wasn't sure if she should be upset or grateful that he was sticking up for her. What she did know, was that the marshal's grip on her loosened as he took the purse.

"This is barely ten silvers, Lord Byron was missing three hundred gold," the marshal looked confused. "There is the matter of the other crimes."

"Release her into our custody," Kirann offered, "one of my compatriots is a paladin of Tyr."

"Very well, you are responsible for her, and if she does anything, I'll have your hide!" Marshall Goodman.

Quick as the wind, Kirann took back her coin purse from the marshal, and handed it back to Val. Then he gave a quick bow, as he hurried the rogue away. Behind them the marshal growled, sheathed his sword and marched off. Much to Val's delight. She thought he was a stick in the mud anyway.

"So, what do we call you?" he asked the rogue.

"Val," she said. "Thanks for that. The good marshal has been trying to get me for made up crimes forever. Lord Byron just hates it because his wife has a bigger heart than he. She tends to give money to charities, so he blames poor people."

Kirann looked her over, "That doesn't explain his targeting of you."

"The marshal and I have a history," she explained.

Kirann introduced her to the others; and was curious to find that the wizard and Dwarf had joined them. The paladin had brought them over and now they were discussing the rewards. Walton introduced the Dwarf as Boris, a fighter of no small measure. The wizard was called Manheim, and Kirann doubted that was his real name. Wizards tended to be cagey with their real names; and would take on a pseudonym quite often.

Val took in the group. Lorinda eyed her with a knowing eye, while Boris didn't seem to care. Manheim glowered, and made his disdain quite clear. Raven sat off, her hood still covering most of her face and eyes. Val felt something was off, but also let the other woman have her space. Being of the shadows, she allowed people to have their secrets, just as she did. That didn't mean she wasn't curious, or that she wasn't planning on finding out. Sometimes the best things in life were a puzzle to solve, a mystery to solve.

The seven made their plans, and then each rented a room for the night. Val ended up bunking with Lorinda, while Kirann and Walton shared a room. The remaining three each had individual rooms. In the morning they headed out, freshly supplied.

Due to Val's issues with the law, they left early, so to keep from running into the marshal or any of his guard. Which was fortunate as the marshal did come back looking for her with more people. Lord Byron had once again accused Val of stealing from him, even though she had spent the whole night in the room. He was told this much by the tavern keeper.

A notice went up later that day, for her immediate arrest if she ever were to enter town limits again. Their target though was far away, traveling with new friends towards where the bandit attack had been. None knew what destiny lay in store for them, or the twists and turns about to come their way.


	2. Chapter 2

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part II

After leaving town, the group traveled down the road towards the robbed town. Walton explained that the town was called Wyvern's Rest. So named because up till a generation ago, a wyvern made its home in the nearby mountains. A group of adventurers had finally slain the beast, much to the chagrin of the inhabitants.

"The people were horrified, apparently the wyvern kept bandits away," Walton explained. "They brought it gold and food, and for the most part left them alone."

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend," Kirann piped up.

The paladin of Tyr raised an eyebrow at the monk. Meanwhile the wizard rolled his eyes, and the fighter huffed in frustration. Lorinda tried to stifle a laugh, as they pushed further on. Kirann had a tendency to say stuff like that, just the way his mind worked. At least as long as she had known him.

The trip between the two towns was about six hours, and would have been quicker with horses. After about three hours, they broke off the side of the road for a quick rest. During that time they exchanged stories, talked and got to know one another. As basic strangers, this was common. It was always wise to know who you traveled with.

That is how they found out that Boris suffered from a boisterous streak, that pushed the Dwarf race's penchant for exaggeration to the max. He talked about felling massive dragons while drunk, and wooing every tavern wench across Faerun. Most of the stories were so beyond belief, that nobody believed them at all.

Manheim spoke little and when he did, was surprised that Raven understood him. He had tried to explain the neo conservative nature of arcane symbology, and their practical uses. To which she had to remind him that symbology was great, but the spatial imbuement was more fascinating.

"Are you daft? We're talking about writing reality in, and you're focused on storage," Manheim sneered.

Raven shrugged, "Remaking the world is fine, till you realize your whole world is in a bag of holding."

"Perspective," Kirann chipped in. "I like it."

Of course Manheim scoffed, "You just don't understand. It takes a keen mind to even grasp it."

"Yes, because we all know that the only way is the wizard's narrow view," Raven spoke. "The rest of us are just bumbling fools in the dark."

Manheim didn't seem to catch on to her sarcasm, "Now that is the most intelligent thing you've said yet."

The haughty wizard looked displeased when Lorinda began to giggle. Kirann held up a hand, to hold off any more conversation on the topic. They had rested enough and it was time to be getting back on the road. If all went well, they'd hit Wyvern's Rest a couple hours after noon. Of course this was the road, and anything could happen on the road.

That was made clear a couple hours later, as they traveled. Out of the forest, that the road had been cut out of, came farming family. Mother, father and young children running fearfully from something. Past the travelers they stumbled and fell, while a piercing porcine squeal came for them. Out next came the biggest, most demonic looking boar the group had ever seen.

Its skin was red, as if burned by the sun. The eyes were large and looked like big black pools, that sucked in your soul. The hair was spiky and coarse, looking more like jagged needles. Its tusks were misshapen, curling up to where ominous tips pointed towards the fleeing family. It squealed in a way that made the travelers clutch their ears in pain.

The devil boar rushed forward, and chaos ensued. Kirann was first to react, he flipped his cloak back and prepared to strike. Raven pulled her sword, while Val looked at her two daggers with incredulousness. Walton ran screaming at the boar, while Lorinda was in the middle of casting an entanglement spell. The Dwarf, Boris, had finally gotten his shield off his back and axe in hand, when Manheim cast a flame spell.

Walton struck at the boar, only for it to ram hard into him. He tottered backwards, as Boris slammed into the porcine monster. It was then that Manheim's flame spell hit, causing Kirann to have to jump back. The fire hit the boar, but also splashed onto the fighter and paladin. Raven had to duck as the flame attack had gone over her head. Boris' armor caught fire at that moment.

Things might have gone worse, but Lorinda's spell had been successful. Plant like tendrils erupted from the ground, grabbing the boar. Kirann ran to Boris, and threw him onto the ground. The Dwarf rolled onto the ground several times, before the flames died down. Lorinda pulled Walton back, and Val was unsure what to do. Raven moved back with the others.

Kirann threw down his pack, "Manheim, go left, hit it with your magic. Boris, Walton, keeps its attention. Raven, you and I will hit it from the right side. Val, I need you to slow it down. You'll probably need these."

The monk pulled out two short swords from his pack and handed them to the rogue. They weren't special or magical, but they were well balanced. She tried a couple of swipes with the swords; they felt good in her hands. Val went to thank him, but he had moved over to the druid.

"Lorinda, what can you tell me about this thing?" he asked. Her growl told him much.

She told him, "This abomination isn't natural. It has the stink of fiend on it."

"Well then, time to take it out," he agreed. "Let's go!"

Just then the boar broke free from the entangling vines. Boris and Walton charged forth. Boris' shield smacking the porcine monster in the head, while Walton's blade bit into the demon boar. Manheim released another spell, striking the boar and causing it to roar in pain. Val sliced one haunch and dodged as the boar tried to kick her. Which left it open for Raven to slice into its tender side with her khopesh. The curved blade bit deep, and as compounded as Kirann's kick shattered the monster's ribs.

The beast squealed, even louder than before. Boris hit it again, and pushed it back with his shield. The beast responded by throwing him back, and rushing Walton. His armor absorbed the attack, making it a glancing blow. It was still enough for the paladin to lose his balance. He crashed down to one knee, his sword missing the beast and landing in the ground. The beast swung its head towards Raven and Kirann.

Val was caught by one of its feet, and she was thrown to the ground. She was back up just in time to see Kirann grab the huge boar by the tusks. Amazingly she saw it flip onto its back. The monk had used its momentum, and applied force into just the right area to flip the demonic boar. Then he motioned for Lorinda to strike.

"Quickly, finish it!" he commanded.

Lorinda rushed forward and thrust her sword staff through the soft underbelly. Demon boar squealed one last, before it fell silent. The Elf removed her weapon, and black ichor poured from the now dead creature. Raven looked at the creature and moved back, not wanting to be close to the now dead monster. Val came up, only out of curiosity before joining Raven off to the side. Manheim was looking very proud of himself, and Boris was complaining he needed a drink. Walton meanwhile was over with the farming family, trying to console them.

"Raven, if you would use your sword on the neck of this beast," Kirann said. "Best to make sure it is really dead."

"It looks dead," was her reply.

Kirann turned to her and said, "Looks can be deceiving. I'd rather not have a vengeful beast on our heels."

Raven, once again felt like he could see what she wanted hidden. Like his sight could dispel the glamour, and her blood ran cold. Yet, he turned away to talk with Val. So, she did go up to the creature and laid two savage slashes into its neck. More ichor sprayed out, but the thing didn't move at all.

"You are all safe now," Walton told the family. He smiled a wide, comforting smile. "I'm a paladin of Tyr. My name is Walton."

"Milord, we have no money to repay you," the female farmer said.

"That is no.." Walton began,but was interrupted by Boris.

"No problem there, we'll take some ale and whatever else you can provide," the Dwarf said.

"Excuse me, but I burned through some valuable spells," Manheim argued. "I do believe they should repay us. I don't work for free."

Val interjected, "Well it's not like you're gonna get blood from a turnip! They aren't exactly swimming in gold!"

The wizard looked at her as if she were a talking gerbil, "There are other ways to pay."

"That thing attacked us and them," Kirann reminded them all. "We won't ask them for saving our own hides." To the farmers, "Are you able to make it back home safely?"

The husband this time answered, "Yes, milord. You've done a good service for us."

"It was our privilege," Walton said.

"Speak for yourself," Manheim scoffed. "If we aren't getting paid, let's get moving."

Kirann waved the angry mage off, "Patience, it is a virtue." He helped the family back to their feet, before getting his group ready to go.

The wife pulled him off to the side, "If you come back this way, call on me and mine. We owe you and don't you go thinkin' we'll be forgetting that." Kirann was about to argue, but she cut him off, "Name's Laura Farmer, that there is my husband, Nick Farmer. You just ask for Nick Farmer's place and our neighbors will steer you our way."

"Thank you," Kirann said more to be polite than agreeing to stop by later.

The travelers left the area, once the had all checked themselves for injuries. They left behind a grateful family and the start of many stories to come. Soon they would make it to the town, and as they did, a tale would start to move from mouth to mouth. Because of the fight on the road, the travelers decided to stop by the inn first. They purchased some food and drink, allowing them a small respite before getting to work.

"Listen monk," the wizard growled. "You aren't our leader. We should have gotten something out of that."

Kirann rolled his eyes, "We did."

"Well you aren't the leader either, wizard," Boris made the last part sound like a curse. "You barely fought all, standing in the back flinging magic with abandon. 'Ohh look at me, I can throw flame and catch my group on fire!' Lot of good that did."

"There is more to material gain, and the wizard did help out," Walton tried to diffuse the situation.

"Plus, it was Kirann's plan that saved us," Val interjected. "We ran into that mess like a bunch of idiots."

"Speak for yourself, you were useless," Manheim scowled. "If it wasn't for my magic, the lot of you would have been boar feed."

"Enough!" Kirann stopped the argument flat. "We succeeded because we worked together. Together we stand, divided we fall. Now, Walton, where did this robbery occur?"

"The town's counting house. It is in the center of town," Walton advised. "You said we might want to start there?"

"At least find out which way the bandits went," Lorinda agreed. "Unfortunately, I'm not able to tell much in town. Once we can get back to nature, I can see more."

Val looked nervous, "Are we going to be talking to the guard?"

"Walton will," Kirann said. "They'll likely talk to a paladin easier. It'll be good for you to be there, see or hear something we might not."

Val seemed uncertain, but agreed. Kirann put her at ease, and made her feel safe. Something that was foreign to her, at least recently. Her parents had made her feel safe, but they were gone now. They were kind and loving, but this monk was something else. The only other one in the group like him was Raven. Raven made her comfortable, because they both had their secrets. That and the mysterious woman wasn't digging, yet.


	3. Chapter 3

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part III

The group made their way to the counting house. The motley nature caused quite a stir as they moved. People either gawked, or hurried to get out of the way. It was clear to everyone that they were adventurers, and that normally meant trouble. It also made it very easy for the guard to direct them towards the counting house.

The reception there was lukewarm at best. Walton received quite a bit of praise form the owners, while the rest were barely noticed. Which made the fawning come across as disingenuous at best. The paladin didn't seem to see this though, and was eating up all the attention being thrown upon him.

Val meanwhile had fallen into her rogue habits, casing around the building. Raven took everything in, noticing the patterns and how things were set up. The people behind the scenes had a whole set up, and she wondered if the people talking to them, understood it. There were rooms, guarded ones and unguarded, with offshoots that ran to private rooms. Yet, there were mysteries literally written into the walls, paintings and set up of the building.

Lorinda looked, of them all, the most uncomfortable. She straightened the strap of her staff blade weapon, fidgeted with the collar of her armor. Eyes darted about, looking for the nearest exit, and her breathing was slightly increasing. Enclosed places, cut off from nature, were not her favorite places. At least the monks' monastery, near to her circle, had the decency to be open and airy.

"Easy," Kirann gave her a small touch.

Warmth flooded into Lorinda, and she felt a little more at ease. She was annoyed that she needed it, because she knew she was stronger than this, but grateful. Some would have taken Kirann's intrusion as an insult, but not her. He was a good person, and didn't think her weak. Now, if only she could feel the same way.

The wizard was bored, as most of the arcane symbols were for protection and prevention of scrying. Bunch of wealthy patrons that wanted their wealth or investments to be protected. Due to magic sight spell he had cast, Manheim could see the wards around the different boxes, rooms and items on display. Lots of magic, and as a result, a lot of wealth into this place. Instantly he went to thinking about how to use this to his advantage.

"Holy boy," Boris growled. "I think we've been runnin' our mouths enough."

Walton scowled at the Dwarf, then turned back to their hosts, "What else can you tell us about the thieves."

"Just what you know, oh Holy Knight of Tyr," one of the bankers said. "These ruffians came in, and held my people at weapon's point. Very terrible, very terrible it was. One of them was laughing like a madman. Laughed even louder when he stabbed poor Teslyn."

"How gravely was she wounded?" Kirann asked.

The banker, who had been talking to Walton, turned to the monk. Condescension rolled off the banker. If Kirann was offended, he didn't show it, instead looking expectantly towards the well dressed man. Slowly, the banker started to speak again, and answered the questions. However, if it was possible to drip arrogance, the banker would have been a rainstorm of ego.

"The priests of Ilamater have healed her," the banker explained. "No need to talk to her, it's possible she could still die. A shame, where can I find another apprentice like her?"

"One can wonder," Kirann replied. "Walton, it would be wise to start following the escape route."

Before the banker could interject false outrage, the paladin nodded, "Thank you kind, banker. My monk friend is indeed right. May the Even Handed watch over you."

After they left, the guard outside, showed the group where the bandits had fled to. From the counting house, the bandits moved down West Street, which led straight to a plains area. The tracks were haphazard and belied what the witnesses had said about the quick retreat the bandits had beat.

"Flat land, should be able to catch up with them easy enough," Boris said. "If we can keep the wizard from getting tired."

Kirann shook his head, "They have too much of a head start. It would be better to conserve our energy."

Lorinda interjected, "He's right, we don't want to run ourselves ragged. I'd rather survive our encounter with bandits, than fall into their grasps, because we're too weak."

"Speak for yourself Elf, we Dwarves are hardy," Boris puffed out his chest.

Walton agreed with Kirann, "I too, would love to mete out holy vengeance, but there is wisdom in their words. Come now, we can start the chase!"

The others slowly followed. Raven hung back, Val taking up position next to her. Lorinda led, her sight able to follow the tracks left by the bandits. The others could see the tracks, but she could make out which ones were holding the loot, and who was acting as rearguard.

She could tell that they formed a protective ring around the loot carriers. Also, about one hundred yards from town, another group joined up with them. A battle didn't ensue, and the two groups merged up. For the second group, she put their numbers about eight to ten people. That pushed the total numbers they might face to around twenty-five to thirty. It also meant that this may not have been the work of just a few bandits.

Lorinda shuddered at the thought of multiple bandit groups working in sync with one another. Alone, they were dangerous enough. Together bandits could cause no end of trouble, and the people could end up suffering. Though she was a druid, and keen on the balance between civilization and nature, she didn't want to see undo hardship on anyone. As well, it also meant that they had to fight this smart. Leave it up to the Dwarf and he'd just rush right in to fight, where they were outnumbered four to one.

As Lorinda explained to everyone, Raven asked, "How sure are we that they stayed together?"

"None of the tracks have split off for long," the druid answered. "The ones that do, they catch back up with the rest. If I had to hazard a guess, they've been leaving people back to keep watch. These bandits are more organized than I would normally expect to see."

Val piped up, "There was a rumor back in town, about some easy gold to be made. The group sounded too good to be true, so I didn't listen further than that."

"Well isn't it just awesome that our ace in the hole is a dud," Manheim scowled. "Just one job, that's all you had thief."

Kirann put a hand up, "At the time, it wasn't of importance. Do you remember anything else about this, Val?"

She gave him a thankful look, "Eddie Lizard was talking about it back in town. Before you ask, don't, it's a long story about his name. From what I can remember, he said the gang boss was named Goat Smasher."

"What in the bloody hell kind of name is that?" Boris exclaimed. "I think this is just hogwash."

Val rolled her eyes as she explained, "I don't make up these names, and like I said, it sounded too good to be true. He was promising to split all the loot equally. I've never seen a boss not take a little extra because they are the boss."

"Know this from personal experience," Boris sniped.

Raven interjected, "No more than a mining boss or shop owner taking more than their employees. I think everyone has experience with that."

Kirann smiled warmly at that, "I think we need to keep our minds on the mission. If these groups are working together, we may have a much tougher opponent to face."

"Great, more heads for the bashing!" Boris sounded like a happy kid in a dangerous candy store. "Let's get movin' you durned slowpokes."

The group continued on, Val taking point. She kept them from traps and away from surprise encounters. Meanwhile Lorinda kept an eye out for beasts, which helped the wizard from running into a nest of giant spiders. At one point they had to slow down, as the Dwarf's armor was clanking so loud to wake up the forest.

Eventually the day turned from daylight to evening. The group veered off to find a camping spot. Off the trail, but away from any game trails, they made their simple camps. Lorinda called up soft vegetation to serve as sleeping mats for them all. Walton and Boris set up most of the tents, while Kirann, Raven and Val went looking for food off the land. Manheim used magic to set up his tent, and it was the most ostentatious of the group's tents.

The wizard went to set up a fire, but was stopped by Lorinda. He argued with her, but lost the argument when Boris sided with the druid. They may not have caught up with the bandits yet, but they might be able to see smoke from a campfire. It was better not to let their targets know that they were being followed. To this thought, the wizard pouted by going over his spell book. He let the others finish the chores around the camp.

Kirann had found some apples in a nearby tree. They were sweet and utterly delicious, making him very popular. Lorinda relayed to him that honeycrisps were quite rare in these parts, normally found further south. Which he took in stride, though he did smile warmly. Even Manheim managed to like those apples.

Raven found the most awful smelling fruit. Most of the group argued for her to throw it out, but once again Lorinda interjected. She helped crack open the fruit, making it smell even worse, and eagerly devoured some of the fruit flesh inside. Soon, Walton and Kirann took a risk and ate some as well. Their immediate pleased expressions made Boris curious.

"By the seven hells, that smells worse than a durned unwashed Orc!" Boris held his nose tightly.

Manheim drolled, "Smells like Dwarves after a night drinking."

Boris glared at him, and if looks could kill, the wizard would have been turned to dust. Luckily the others ignored them and were too busy with the fruit. Raven took some of Kirann's apples, while sharing the odorous fruit. They did chuck the hollowed remains of the stinky fruit when done, but all were well fed by that point.

"Where in all the planes did you find such a horrid, but delicious plant?" Walton asked. "I have smelled something that foul since Brother Joffery fell into a skunk's nest!"

"It's called Durian," Raven explained. "My family learned of it from one of our neighbors. I was shocked to find it around here."

"As you should be," Lorinda said. "I think when we are done, I'd like for you and Kirann show me where you found such rare fruits. Both aren't normally found in a place like this."

"I think that can be arranged," Kirann got up to go towards his sleep roll. "Everyone turn in, we start early in the morn."

Manheim thrust to his feet suddenly, "Once more, who put you in charge? I thought the paladin was paying us all."

"It doesn't make him wrong," Walton agreed with the monk. "We do need to start early. Maybe we can catch up with the thieves."

Boris snickered, "Maybe we'll get lucky and our targets will be still hungover from celebration."

"A good thief won't count their loot till they are safely back," Val countered. "I doubt it'll be that easy."

Lorinda had to see it from the Dwarf's view though, "I've seen too many bandits in the forest, and they always get drunk. You, Val, I think are an abnormality amongst rogues. You actually think ahead."

"Everyone fine with the monk hijacking the leadership?" Manheim went on, as if the others hadn't been having their own conversations.

Walton answered, "What would be the intelligent thing to do then, wizard?"

At that Manheim sputtered, but couldn't come up with a better idea. Even worse, he had to admit it. So, the others followed Kirann's lead, leaving the wizard to sulk in his bedroll. All but Raven were full soon asleep, as she had taken the first watch.

She kept her eyes looking outwards, away from the fire. In her thoughts, the voice was silent. It normally was, unless it wanted her to go somewhere, or go after something. So, she was able to really just be in her own skin. It also meant that she could let down the glamour down, releasing a little bit of her concentration.

Beneath her hood curved horns appeared, her skin tone became more reddish and she sighed with relief. Holding the glamour wasn't hard, but releasing it felt like stretching after sitting for too long. She shifted, getting more comfortable. Around them she was always hiding, but for now she was not.

Hours passed and Val rose to take over from Raven. The wizard hadn't been fond of this part, not trusting her. However, he didn't want to lose any beauty sleep. So, his only recourse was to go along with the others. He still made it quite clear what he'd do if any of his stuff came up missing. Which made her only want to mess with him more, maybe hide a few of his supplies. However, the monk may not go along with that, and for some reason his opinion mattered. Possibly because of how he treated her, like a person instead of a dirty thing to be thrown into a dungeon.

As she rose, she caught sight of Raven. The other woman must not have noticed that she had stirred, because the hooded woman continued to stare off into the dark. Who Raven saw was both different and the same, as the person she knew before. The face was the same, but it was more crimson. Then there were the horns, at least they looked like horns. She blinked just to make sure her eyes were fine, but by that time, Raven had changed back.

Val shook her head and got up. The other woman looked at her, desperate for a moment before lying down. Her head still turning towards the rogue sporadically. Val though was in her head, and wasn't concerned about that for a moment. She wondered if she had actually seen what she thought she had. Raven looked so human now, but was it all an illusion? As a rogue, she had run across Tieflings, and that is what made the most sense.

Some kind of magic, it had to be. If it was magic, then what kind of magic user was Raven? She didn't seem to have the haughty demeanor of the wizard, her behavior was more rogue like. It was possible she was a sorceress, but she hadn't cast any magic during the boar fight. She also didn't have the feel of a priestess, but she could be mistaken. The only thing for sure, was to keep an eye out.


	4. Chapter 4

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part IV

The next day dawned, with Kirann on watch. Val noticed that Raven woke up with a start and felt her face. Walton and Boris put their plate armor back on, a laborious process that took some help from their comrades. Manheim seemed to have stopped pouting, but still had an irritated air about him. Lorinda though looked completely rested, ready to go and eager to be out under the sky.

Val wished she could feel that good, but she admitted to herself, that she missed a good bed. The next town they came to, she was splurging for a soft one, and warm covers. It hadn't been that cool during the night, but there was something about a warm bed and covers. A warm meal too, as Kirann had them eating road rations instead of starting a campfire. She understood his wisdom, but a hot meal sounded good to her.

As the group broke camp, Raven kept an eye on Val. The rogue had seen something last night, and now she was expecting a betrayal in the near future. People like her, cursed by heritage, tended to be run out of every town they settled in. Those like Val and Walton were quick to turn, saying nothing on how quickly someone like Kirann would probably turn. If the Dwarf found out, she'd have an immediate fight on her hands. The wizard was an unknown. He might or might not attack on just a whim.

Lorinda took lead, getting the group back on track. Soon, they were back on the trail of the thieves. They also had to be more careful, as they finally started to catch up with their quarry. They collected around an outcropping, spying the scene in front of them.

The bandit camp was laid out in a series of old ruins, carved and molded from the clay around the site. The set up was haphazard at best, chaotic to be sure. Natural walls carved out a labyrinth, to which all the buildings were build into or around. The site must have been an old settlement, from before written history around.

In and out of these clay buildings went more bandits than any of the group had ever seen. Mixed in with that hustle and bustle, were the sounds of pain and suffering. Along with the raucous conversations, wails of sorrow lifted into the air. Pleas of mercy, voices begging for food, and the sound of whips cracking against flesh.

To the gathered, and horrified heroes, it was too much. Not only was the bandit group bigger than they realized, but the crimes were worse as well. Instead of stolen fortunes, they saw stolen lives. Each felt the wave of hopelessness wash over them, but not their own. Every soul down below their position was calling out for a savior. It was just that there were too many.

Val took a step back, staying low to the ground. Her breathing came fast and shallow, her mind racing. Adrenaline surged with horror, her body wanted to react, but her mind was stuck processing what she had seen. Sense told her to stay put, her better nature wanted to rush in to rescue them all. She turned to look, and saw a mixture of that on her companions faces.

Walton was nearly growling, hand flexing near his sword. Raven was still, but more like a coiled snake. Lorinda was silently mouthing to her deity, while Boris was nearly screaming. Manheim had lost his arrogant air, seemingly lost for words. Yet, it was Kirann that showed the most. A bright glow had begun to flow around him, and would have given them away. However, he moved back away from the view point. That kept his glowiness from giving them away.

"There are too many!" Manheim softly said. "We came to recover riches, not die in some holy crusade!"

Val pushed the wizard back, "We can't leave those people! I don't care about the money. Those are people out there, people that are in need of help!"

"There are at least forty thieves or more down there!" Manheim growled back at her.

Walton stepped between them, "The rogue is right, we can't leave these people in bondage."

"That's easy for you to say, paladin," Manheim pointed a finger at him. "If you want to die for your order, that is your prerogative. If you think this through, the only smart thing is to come back with more people."

Raven watched, but she wasn't conflicted. She knew what she wanted to do, wanted to go down there and be a hero. The voice in her head reminded her that she was no hero. However, it wanted something from down there. So, the voice agreed with the rogue and paladin. She turned to look at the druid and monk, only to catch Kirann's eyes glow gold.

"Manheim, we can do this," Kirann said. "They are moving around at peace, they aren't ready for an attack. We can see their lookouts are bored."

Lorinda nodded, "Take them out, and then we can sneak in."

"Except the Dwarf and paladin will give us away," the wizard stated matter-of-factly. "Have you heard them tromping around in their armor?"

"With the lookouts gone, we might be able to take out individual groups," Kirann said. "We need to keep them off balance. Might need some distractions. Might be able to do this."

Lorinda looked back over the ledge, "It looks like the area is big enough, and the thieves are spread out. Our hardest fight will be towards the center. They are heavily saturated around there."

"You people still yappin'?" Boris groaned. "We should just go in straight and give them a good Dwarf beat down."

Kirann shook his head, "Six or seven to one are not great odds. We do this smart." Then looking right at Val, "We are not leaving them behind."

The rogue looked relieved, and gave him a quick thank you. Manheim started to complain, stopping though when the others didn't pay attention. Instead, they all moved forward. Val, Kirann and Lorinda went ahead, with Boris and Walton taking a slower approach. Raven and Maheim were in-between, hands on their weapons, ready to draw.

The first two lookouts went down hard. Val attacked from the shadows, and her daggers slipped through the neck of one. The other saw his friend go down, but crashed to the ground. A roundhouse kick connecting to the back of the head. Lorinda's staff blade sliced through a lung. The lookout died silently, but it took a moment. In the meantime a single thief walked up, only to find Raven's Khopesh slicing through his neck.

Boris and Walton moved the bodies, storing them behind one of the earthen walls. The followed the others around the circumference of the camp. The next three watch points fell quickly, and the bodies were hidden just as quickly. Nine out of the forty some odd thieves were taken care of.

However, the going was only to get tougher. Instead of two lookouts, now the next group was a total of eight thieves. They were singing a loud drinking song, but they were still sober enough to raise an alarm. The group would need to be careful, but they had a plan. Take out each group, one by one, without allowing the alarm to be raised. Should have been busy.

All was going according to plan, except how bored Boris was. The others had taken more action today, and the armored Dwarf was starting to get rankled up. He wanted to be bashing heads in, and by Moradin's beard, he was going to show them how this was supposed to work. Rushing forward, the Dwarf fighter screamed a battle cry for all to hear. His axe split the head of his target, and he quickly pulled it back out. He managed to slam the axe head into the sternum of another, before the others could react. He turned to face another, not realizing his last opponent wasn't dead yet.

Which is how a Dwarf came to be knocked over by a nearly dead thief. Even worse was that he rolled into their campfire, knocking over their cooking pots and pans. As Boris got back up, he could see one of the thieves raising the alarm. He also saw the rest of his group valiantly taking out the remaining thieves.

Boris cheered, and rushed the thief raising the alarm. He didn't expect the dirt that was thrown into his face. However, luck was with him, as his axe strike was true. Boris' axe sank into the shoulder of the thief, who screamed even louder than the alarm. A shield to the face quieted the thief, and an axe to the face did it permanently.

"So much for doing this the easy way," Kirann shot an accusatory look at Boris.

Boris shrugged, "This is more exciting. Better to have a straight up fight than all this sneaking about."

"We'll make sure that is on your headstone, Dwarf," Manheim growled. "We should really flee now!"

"We're not leaving," Kirann stated. "Everyone stick together, make them come to us. We'll use the layout to take them out. We engage, and fall back. Let them wear themselves out."

Just as he said that, ten more thieves appeared and rushed the group. Boris went to engage, but found himself tossed back by the paladin. The Dwarf looked ready to fight Walton, but soon had to pay attention. Another group had snuck up behind them, this one numbering fifteen. Three to one odds were not in their favor, and Boris received a smack to the head for his trouble. He got back up, only to be drug back by Kirann and Raven.

"Raven, hit them with your abilities!" Kirann said as he turned.

She was about to ask what he was talking about, but was surprised as a stream of flaming light shot out of his hand. The nearest thief fell down, his compatriots trampling over his remains. Another reached for the monk, only to have the ground meet her hard. The air pushed out of her lungs, she couldn't protect herself from Kirann's axe kick. Darkness took over, and there was no more pain.

Outnumbered, and more were coming. He was right, she had to use her abilities. Raven pointed out with her blade and a blast of Eldritch energy hit the next thief. Lorinda set an entangling spell as Raven shot another blast of energy. Both women were drug back by the monk.

The fighter and paladin covered the rear on the retreat, taking out another two between them. Then the chase was on. The group raced through the labyrinth like camp. They ran, stopped, fought and continued on running. The thieves for their part coordinated, but the number of attackers kept them off guard.

Because of the loss of their sentries, and the movement of the group, the thieves weren't sure how many were attacking. Some said it had to be at least a full contingent of soldiers. Another said it had to be about five or six adventurers, but they were scoffed at. They placed the number actually around ten to twenty. The leader stood back and listened to his lieutenants.

"Tell me again, why we are running for our lives?" Manheim growled.

Val answered back, "I believe it's because our Dwarf friend decided that taking them all at once was more fun than winning!"

"This is more fun!" Boris exclaimed as he sunk his axe into another thief. "Now this is a fight!"

Lorinda sighed, "Dwarves! More bravery than sense in this one. You do realize that you don't have to live up to the stereotype of your race!"

"What? Good in bed, handsome, hardy and totally awesome in battle?" Boris sneered. "Don't worry lass, you can have a turn."

Lorinda threw Kirann a glared, "If they don't kill him, I will!"

"My money is on the druid," Raven said. "Keep your mind on the fight Dwarf."

"I'm paying attention, and as soon as we are done," Boris dispatched another thief. "We are going to talk about those blasts you are doing. They don' seem natural."

Manheim nodded, "They are eldritch in origin. Could be demon, celestial or fey."

"And aiding us, so keep your heads in the fight!" Kirann ordered. "We'll talk about which is worse, unnecessary risks or putting innocents in danger, later."

By that point, more than a third of the thieves had fallen. Kirann was rubbing his arm, where one attacker had gotten lucky. Val, was wrapping up a cut she had received. Lorinda was healing Walton, who had taken quite a few hits protecting his group. Boris still looked happy, while Manheim was nearly out of breath. Raven looked drained, and was surprised as the monk handed her one of his apples from yesterday.

She hungrily chomped into it. He gave her a smile, and quick pat on her back. He reached into his pack, and started eating another one. Energy returned to both of them, as they waited for the thieves to regroup. They were still outnumbered, they had lost the element of surprise, and their enemies were now ready for them.

"Maheim, do you have some type of slick spell?" Kirann asked.

The wizard rolled his eyes, "Slick spell, really? Do you know nothing about magic."

"He is a monk!" Lorinda threw a pebble at the mage.

"It is called 'Grease,' and yes I have it memorized," Manheim explained. "Really not that hard to remember."

Ignoring the condescension, Kirann told him, "Cast it over there. Lorinda, do you have another entangle spell?"

"Oh, he got that right!" the wizard complained.

"Yes, Kirann," Lorinda said. "What do you want me to do?"

Pointing at one entranceway, "You put it there when Val comes running back. Manheim, you put your grease spell over there by the other entrance. Raven, you and Manheim take over ranged duties when we come running. Val, you and I are going to rustle up some thieves."

"I'm not so sure about this," the rogue said.

Kirann pulled her close, "It'll be okay, I'll be right with you."

The thief leader watched as two crazy people came running at his group. One threw a dagger, that injured the man to his right. The other threw a stone with almost superhuman accuracy. When another fell, the leader sent out a small group of his people out. Much to his delight, the two fools fell back. Then a small twinge in his gut quickly developed into a full blown panic attack. Why, soon became evident, but the die had already been rolled.

Kirann and Val came around the corner at full speed, just as entangling roots erupted from the ground. Some of their pursuers ran right into that, only to find themselves immobilized. Another group that had tried to cut them off, soon found themselves impacting the ground hard. They slid around in the grease, unable to get to their feet and soon were taken out all together.

Those trapped in the entangling roots were dispatched just as quickly, and now the thieves' numbers were severely reduced. Those with the leader heard the screams of their comrades, sending a shudder down their spines. Some took that moment to leave, finding the danger level too much for them. Others tried, but soon found themselves stopped by the leader's lieutenants.

"I want their heads," the leader told his lieutenants. "Come out, come out. Let us see the faces of our enemies. Those who fought so valiantly should have no problem showing themselves."

Nothing happened for a few minutes, but then the leader got the biggest surprise of his life. Three kegs of wine rolled right up to his group. It took a moment to realized that the ends were plugged with rags, rags that were burning. He had just a moment to leap off to the side, as the kegs exploded into massive fireballs. He rose, his hearing gone, and saw his people falling to the weapons of the others. Without waiting, the leader engaged.

Walton sliced through one disabled thief, and he turned his momentum to carry it through another. Behind him, Val stabbed her two short swords into another shocked thief. She launched off, and took out another. One thief came at her, only to fall as an Eldritch Blast took them out. Raven's Khophesh bit into another, and she let her warlock power flow through it. The thief spun from the release and was dead before they hit the ground. Lorinda took out another two with her sword staff, while Boris was having too much fun bashing his shield into others faces.

The leader pushed a dying thief off, and brought his heavy mace down on Boris' head. The only thing that saved the Dwarf was his helmet, but he was knocked out. Walton came to his aid, only for the leader to smash the mace into his arm. For a brief second, the paladin thought his arm was broken. However, as the leader threw him to the ground, his arm moved just fine. It just hurt like hell.

Val saw the thief leader raise his weapon up, to take out the paladin permanently. She rushed forward and stabbed out. The leader twisted, and her attack harmlessly passed him. He then retaliated with a swift backhand, that sent the rogue rolling across the ground. He picked up a fallen ally's weapon and threw it at her. She tried to rise, but knew she'd never get up in time. As she braced herself to be hit, she felt nothing.

Kirann deflected the weapon, standing in front of her. He quickly made his way towards the thief leader. His opponent swung out with his mace, and the monk dodged it expertly. The leader swung again, and Kirann deflected it. As he did, he threw out a series of punches, all hit the leader like a ton of bricks. The leader fell back, went back to attack, only to find himself flying backwards. The monk's strong sidekick hit him in the middle of the chest, and as he bounced off the ground, the leader knew fear

Up he came, but his chest was on fire, it was hard to breathe. The thief leader hobbled forward, blood spilling out of his mouth. Unable to get air into his lungs, he fell to his knees, and pushed on. However, his body wasn't strong enough and this time the leader fell to the ground for the final time.

Kirann turned the thief leader over onto his back. Already the light was going out in his eyes. The monk found the keys he was looking for, and he had Val go look for more keys like them. These would release the hostages, the prisoners, those being held to be turned into slaves to the highest bidder. Soon they would be released, but in that moment, Kirann turned towards the dying thief leader.

"May your next life be lived better," he said. "May mercy and compassion be the virtues you live by. Now, go onto the next world and face judgment for your crimes in this life."

The monk rose and looked after his injured party mates. Lorinda was tending to the paladin, while Manheim checked on the Dwarf. Raven and Val were releasing the poor souls kept in the labyrinth. Kirann wasn't skilled in healing magic, but he had learned some things dealing with injuries back at the monastery. So, he first checked in on Boris, only to find the Dwarf starting to rouse. With the fighter fine, he next went over to Walton.

The paladin was favoring the arm that had been injured, but seemed able to move it. Pulling by the good hand, Kirann helped him to a sitting position. Then he called for a rectangular swatch of fabric, silk if they could find any. Lorinda found some in the thieves' treasure room. Handing it to the monk, they fashioned a sling for the paladin.

While Walton thanked them, his eyes immediately went to his blade. As he went for it, he was stopped by Kirann. Lorinda gingerly picked it up, and brought it over to him. She still held it with reverence, understanding to the paladin it was more than just a weapon, but a symbol. She may have been one of the wildlands, but she still knew lore about the holy orders.

"Much appreciated," Walton bowed his head. "I'm fine really."

Kirann patted him on the back, "Let your arm heal. At least till we can get to a healer." He then turned to watch Raven and Val. "Manheim, if you would find some food for these people."

"What would you like me to do, conjure mana from heaven?" Manheim grunted.

"If you can. However, may I suggest looking for the thieves' pantry? They have to have some for all the people here," Kirann said, almost as if he didn't understand the wizard's sarcasm.

"I don't think they meant to feed these people, monk," Manheim rolled his eyes.

Lorinda decided that was the perfect time to throw a pebble at him, "I believe he was talking about the food for the thieves. We kind of expected them not to be feeding their prisoners. At last not well."

"That…would make more sense," the wizard caught on and was instantly embarrassed.

He rushed off while the others started to tend to the released. Lorinda did her best to look at the injuries of the imprisoned, treating them, but knowing they'd need a more specialized care. Still she put on a caring face and spoke reassuringly to them all. She was a favorite of them soon enough, because of this.

Kirann meanwhile aided Val and Raven with moving the people and getting them blankets, from the thieves own rooms. He didn't want to think about what all had happened under those blankets, but they were better than the rags, the prisoners had been left in. He couldn't fix everything at first, but this was a start. Not that it didn't make his heart heavy to see the suffering before him. What came next broke his heart.

Raven thought she had found all the prisoners, but her ears picked up a faint movement. It was the barest of a whisper, but she heard it. She moved towards the sound, her hand back on her sword. The familiar presence of her Khopesh made her feel safer. The sound came again, and she drew her sword, as if second nature.

It came from the cages the prisoners had been in. She searched and found a mass covered in dirty, grimy, excrement soiled fabric. Using her sword, she pulled them back and almost fell to her knees. There before her was a small, famished looking Tiefling boy, and he was such a frightened little thing.

Dotting the boy's dark red skin were welps, scars from cut and from whip. Most were clustered around his chest and back. Some were found on his arms and legs, but the ones that stole her breath the most, were on his face. A pattern of pain was etched into the boy's features, and his continued frightened expression felled her spiritually. Who could do something like this to someone so small and fragile?

Raven quickly looked around, hoping to get the boy away before Kirann found him. As an Aasimar, he'd probably be drawn to kill the Tiefling boy. Celestials and fiends were mortal enemies, and he was half celestial, while this boy was half fiend. She knew that didn't mean the boy was evil, though his road would be filled with temptation towards evil.

As Kirann walked up behind her, she almost shrieked. Moving to shield the boy, he cocked his head at her and walked around. He bent down, and the boy instantly reacted in even greater fear. The monk held up his hand, as if to say the boy was okay. He then put on his best smile and beckoned the boy towards him. Raven tried to get between them, and the boy looked at her, pleadingly.

"I think our young friend has taken a shine to you," Kirann said. "Would you mind getting him cleaned up?" Back to the boy, "You're safe now, little one. Come on, we are here to help."

"I'll get him cleaned up," Raven said, her blood felt like it was freezing. "Let's.."

Kirann turned to her and nodded, "I'll go see if I can round up something for him to wear. Poor guy, life must have been hard for him here."

"Understatement of the year," she replied back as the monk walked off. "Val, can you help me with this guy?" she asked the rogue.

It was Lorinda that answered, "I'll help, Val's attending to some girls. They..they were not treated well."

Raven turned and found a group of teenage girls, sobbing on Val's shoulders. They were dragging the rogue down, and poor Val was overwhelmed. If it hadn't been for the boy, she would have gone over to help out. Instead the druid came back and they both led their new charge away.

Searching for a place to bathe him, they didn't find a single place the thieves used. However, after seeing some of the sleeping mats and areas, they came to realize the thieves didn't bathe regularly. Raven amended that, if they even bathed at all. The smell from the prisoner area was awful, but she could understand that. The same could not be said about the thieves and their sleeping areas.

The two women cleaned off their charge, all the while holding back their own emotions. Raven wanted to just break down in tears, but she knew she couldn't show weakness. Weakness was how people could hurt you, how they could manipulate you. It was also how ones ended up making deals with power that would be better left alone. Her only solace was the battle raging across the druid's face. Lorinda looked like she wanted to slay every thief and bandit again, just to quell her rage.

"Here," Kirann came up behind them. "You'll need to tie off the excess cloth, but this should keep him warm."

The boy froze up in fear at Kirann again, but the monk left just as quickly as he had appeared. This allowed the Tiefling boy to relax again, and he immediately went to Raven. He held her tightly, a scared boy holding onto security, if however brief. She and Lorinda finished dressing him.

The monk was right, and they ended up having to use rope to tie off the excess cloth. He looked odd, with swaths of cloth just enveloping him, and the tight ropes tied off to keep the clothing attached. However, he wasn't cold any longer and as Raven held him, he closed his eyes. Soon the boy was in the world of dreams, and the young woman was lugging him gingerly towards the rest of the released people.

During all this, Manheim kept running off looking for magical loot and books. Boris was doing his part to look for weapons and armor, though he was still loopy from the hit to the head. Walton for his part, tried to help. Being down one arm made it more difficult, but he still managed to do the small things. Getting water, helping distribute food, and the most important of all, he listened.

Now with the initial shock of being released was gone, everyone started to tell him their stories. There were peasants abducted from their homes. Some were sold by their families, to pay off debts. They were told they'd be married off to rich prospects and would live better lives. Others were from fallen kingdoms, sold and sold again till they were delivered here. The stories that tore at the paladin the most though, were the children's. The innocent that had been pulled into this, through no fault of their own.

"Devil spawn!" Boris said as he saw the Tiefling boy hanging onto Raven. "Put the wee demon down and we'll put it out of its misery."

"You will do no such thing!" Raven pulled back and placed herself between the Dwarf and the boy.

Val came up beside her, her heart racing. Had the Dwarf seen too? When she saw the glamour still held, and noticed the boy, she let out a slight breath. Boris didn't know yet, and the way he was acting, it was probably for the best.

She inserted herself between the two, "Settle down Dwarf, I think you got hit a little too hard. That is a boy, nothing more, nothing less and definitely not a demon or devil!"

"Move aside lasses," Boris pulled his axe out. "The sooner we get this done, the better. They'll just grow up to be blights on the world."

He raised his axe, and the two women didn't move the slightest. Behind them, Manheim started to vocalize a spell. He didn't have many left, but it shouldn't take a very powerful one to kill the Tiefling. The Dwarf at least had the right idea. If the boy was older and more powerful, then Manheim might argue to keep him alive. Then he might have something to trade, like spells, magical times or forbidden knowledge. All the things a powerful practitioner could learn.

"Boris, Manheim! Stand Down!" Kirann called out. His voice boomed and echoed across the labyrinth. A golden fire like aura surrounded him, and lightning seemed to flash where his irises were. One could almost make out wings, as they looked more like tricks of the light. "That boy's fate is the fate of all these people, to be chosen by him."

"The lad's a devil!" Boris exclaimed. "Can't you see, you daft human?!"

Manheim shrugged and went back to looting the place. Val led Raven away, and Lorinda came to back up Kirann. It wasn't till Walton also joined the monk, that the Dwarf fighter put his weapon way. He scoffed and went back to doing his own looting. He still thought keeping the little demon alive was a mistake.


	5. Chapter 5

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part V

Hours later, and with the sun about to set, the adventurers moved their new charges. The camp they set up wasn't the roomiest, or most comfortable. However, it was the first night most of the people around them had free in far too long. Though worried and scared, each of the nearly freed had hope again. Their spirits rose and morale grew as the feeling of being free acquainted itself with them again.

Most of the group came around to check on all of them. Boris kept his distance from the Tiefling boy, which was okay with Raven. Manheim seemed to ignore them all, and was busy scribbling in his spell book. The way he did it, the bandits must have had a treasure trove. Walton was telling stories to any who would listen, tales of the brave and dashing paladins of his order. Lorinda was off to the side, and she was leading most of the children in a song.

Raven sat the boy with them, and turned to get some air. Her emotions were threatening to overwhelm her. She wanted to scream, shout, hit something or just collapse. All the fears from her life rushed back, and she had to hold herself still. She heard someone come up behind her, and she whirled around to find Val.

"Sorry," the rogue raised her hands to show them weaponless. "Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Raven turned back around, trying to hide her face.

Val shocked her with honesty, "Because I'm not. Seeing all those people, those kids. I want, I want to strangle those bandits. I've seen bad things, but I…I.. the things the girls told me.."

Raven felt something, and knew it was the same as the rogue. How raw the rogue's words were, trying to come to terms. This had affected Val, and truth be told, she knew it had affected herself too. It was hard to admit, as she was used to walling everyone off. Yet, she couldn't deny that she could feel the rogue's pain.

"Then I saw the little boy, all those scars," Val continued. "He clung to you, and then Boris with his thing. This poor boy, and all the Dwarf could see was a demon. I, I just don't know what to feel, how to feel. All I know is that I want to scream, I want to hide, and I want to wake up and this be all a dream."

Raven went against herself and pulled the rogue close. It was dangerous, Val could attack her and she'd have no way to protect herself. It was a vulnerable position, but something in the rogue's words rang true. As she brought the other woman to her, she felt the pain radiate off. Val shook, and it was possible she was crying. Raven though didn't feel any warm tears, just the shaking of the rogue in her embrace.

Val stopped, "I know. The boy and you. Your secret is safe, I won't tell the others."

"I don't know what you are talking about," Raven said, she tensed up.

Val sniffed, "I saw you in the morning. I didn't understand, till Boris. Now I know why."

"If what you say is true," Raven pulled Val to arms distance.

Val shook her head, "You can trust me. It must be tough with people seeing you as something you're not. All I have to deal with is people gawking at my elven features. You and that boy could be killed or run out of town. All because of something you can't control."

For the first time, Raven felt like she had found a friend, "Okay, just don't tell the monk. I know he's got Celestial in his blood. They tend not to like people like me."

"I don't know, the way he treated the boy," Val countered. "He might be one you can trust. I know this is odd for a rogue, but I do. He gives off that big brother feeling."

"Val, promise me that you won't tell him," Raven made her voice show that this was non-negotiable.

The rogue nodded, "I promised to keep your secret. I'm just saying, you may want to reconsider him. He seems like an alright sort. He's odd, but seems genuine."

"We shall see," Raven smiled. "For the moment, I'll keep my friends close and able to be counted on one hand."

Now curious, Val asked, "How many does that make now?"

"Just one," came the reply.

The next day the heroes led the released back towards Wyvern's Rest. Pulled behind them was a wagon, full of the gold they had originally been sent after. One of the freed people had driven carts before, and was guiding the cart, while Raven kept watch. Val would have been better, but Boris and Manheim were adamantly against that idea. As a result, Manheim was also on the wagon.

Much to Val's amusement, the wizard was green in the gills. Which made her aching legs worth it. Raven was giving a piggyback ride to the young Tiefling boy, while the women were huddled around the mistreated young women. Together they formed a protective shield around them, daring anyone to get close to them.

Because of the extra people, and the lack of mobility of some of them, the group had a longer road back to their destination. They nearly spent another night under the stars, but managed to return back as night fell. Because of the time, they didn't time for an audience with the ruler for the people, though the bankers were quick to get to the money wagon. Kirann waved them off, even as they angrily told him that their job wasn't done yet.

He knew, but he wasn't going to let the money be returned while the people were still unclaimed. Eventually the counting house workers ran back to complain to the guard. Up came the guard captain, looking very tired and irritated. His face though fell as he saw all the freed people lined up, cold in the night air. Instead of pushing the monk to give the money back, he barked orders for his men.

Every available guard and few that had been in the barracks, came to his call. Soon all those freed by the heroes were being taken care of. Warm blankets were wrapped around them, and hot gruel was given to them for food. It was not the tastiest thing to eat, but after being near starved, a feast.

It was then that the bankers gave up on trying to reclaim the treasure for the night. Kirann sent Val and Raven to the nearest inn. He offered Lorinda the same, but she was adamant about staying outside with the refugees and the treasure. Walton was sent to the nearest temple, where the healers tended to him. That left Manheim complaining about having to stand watch over the treasure and Boris complaining about the lack of booze.

Kirann ordered the Dwarf some huge steins of ale, which made him happier. The monk also reminded the mage that he was fine to leave the wagon, but then Val would have to come take his place. Not surprisingly the mage didn't want the rogue anywhere near the treasure. Which left the Aasimar monk time to find a place to sit and meditate.

The rest of the night passed uneventfully, thanks to the guard captain sending patrols around. In the morning the lord of the city, along with the guard captain came to bargain with the group. By then everyone was back, rested and ready for the coming day. Some took notice to the "important people" that had graced them with their presence.

"I am told that you are refusing to finish your contract," the mayor said. "I believe you agreed to return the treasure."

"The counting house can have the recovered treasure," Kirann jumped off the wagon. "I would ask for the horses to be donated to the guard or the city. There may be a farmer that can use a couple of sturdy workhorses."

"Why then did you not return it last night?" the mayor asked, confused.

The monk smiled, "I told them in the morning, and it is now morning. As you can see, we recovered something more precious."

Kirann motioned towards the huddled masses of those who had once been prisoners. The mayor slipped his composure for just a moment as the mass of unwashed faces caught his eye. It was just a moment, but told the monk more about the mayor than he realized. So did the immediately step back and briefly the wheels in the head started to turn.

"I'm sorry monk, I, we can't take that many refugees," the mayor stammered.

"Sir, some of these are our own people," the guard captain reminded the mayor.

The mayor nodded, "Those people we will take care of. The rest, we can pay for them to be relocated. It is the best I can do."

"Direction then," Kirann said. "To where shall we send these people? Some are so far from home, to ever easily return."

"Lord Wallace on the coast might be able to aid them," the mayor quickly thought out loud. "I can't guarantee them asylum, but he might let them in to the city. From there, they can find work or barter for transport."

"A voice they deserve to have in this," Kirann reminded the mayor. "It is their lives to live, not mine."

The mayor took another look at the monk, "Give them their say, and I would pay for you and your group to take them back."

"Listen here, Kirann, I'm not babysitting these people for free or little money," Manheim shouted.

Kirann nodded, never taking his eyes off the mayor, "Your grace, may we take this up again later today?"

"Yes, sir monk, come by the palace around three o'clock," the mayor said. "I promise that if you decided to take the job, I'll reward you well."

So, the refugees were given their say. Most were gobsmacked by the fact someone was asking them their wishes. The ones that were not of the town wished to go home. Some didn't even know where that was, but the want to return was still there. Not surprisingly then, most agreed with trekking home. Those that didn't want to, were afraid of what would happen on the road the port city.

With that decided, those that didn't want to make the trip would have the ability to stay in the area. Kirann was sure he might be able to convince the mayor to give them some help. The next thing was to get them ready, fed, hopefully some better clothing and some supplies. There was also the matter of splitting up their reward from the counting house.

More important was to get the reward, as the bankers hadn't looked happy with him. He could understand that, but to him the lives and rights of beings took precedent over any form of money. However, a deal is a deal, and the contract had been completed. Currency may not have much value to him, but it did provide food and lodging. Those things were very important to a traveler, especially on what is to be a long trek.

Taking Walton with him, Kirann went to each of the merchants with requests. There were those who were hesitant, but most gave what they could. Some gave clothing they couldn't sell, others gave basic footwear, while others gave patched cloaks. One of the adventuring trading companies, donated a water barrel on wagon wheels. The inn had managed to gather enough left overs to make some rudimentary field rations.

They weren't the best supplies, but they would do for the people making their way home. The wagon wheeled water barrel was unique, as it was a new invention. The owner of the adventurer trading company had created it, but hadn't had anyone interested in trying it. However, the owner had to admit that it seemed to fit Kirann's needs well. His only request was that the group come back, after dropping the refugees off. Feed back and possibly a testimonial would do wonders for his new invention.

That left transport for the refugees. This is where the guard came back to them. The guard captain had an old wagon that was found abandoned outside of town. Nobody had come to claim it and the guard had taken to using it sporadically. Since they had two new horses, and ones bred more for labor than speed, they donated those to the group as well.

By the time it turned for the group to meet the mayor, they had most of what they need for the trip. Food, clothing, and transport for their new charges. The only thing left was to claim their reward and talk with the mayor.

The counting house went as expected. The main banker was furious at their money having sat out under the stars, but ended up paying the reward money. Walton split it amongst the party members, taking some out to repay his order's advance. Still, as the group left, the main banker did have to begrudgingly thank them all. They had, after all, completed the mission.

The mayor met them outside his mansion. Beside him was the treasurer, as well as the captain of the guard. The treasurer looked like a bored nobleman, probably given the job as a stepping stone to other greater things. He had the right pedigree and look, right down to the flashy clothing of the wealthy. So many colors weaved into a myriad of patterns, and mostly came across as ostentatious.

However, the treasurer's assessment of the motley group was surprisingly positive. As they came into view, his bored expression disappeared. In its place was a look of utter excitement and more than a passing interest. He straightened his garish clothing and took more than a passing look at the ladies in the group.

"Ah! The heroes of the hour have arrived," the mayor said. "Have you thought about my offer any further?"

Manheim spoke before anyone else could, "We expect to be well compensated."

Lorinda rolled her eyes, "I believe that is what we are here to discuss. Relax, lest our host think all you care about is money."

"It is alright, miss. He is right, we shall pay you," the mayor said.

The treasurer spoke at that moment, "We have a discretionary fund just for things like this. I can offer you seventy five gold, more than adequate for such a simple mission."

"That seems fairly small amount to split between us," Boris sneered. "Why that won't even pay a wench to care for my armor."

The treasurer cleared his throat, "Apologies, I meant seventy five a piece."

Kirann nodded, "I believe that would be more than adequate."

Manheim whispered to him, pulling the monk to the side, "At least try to haggle, we might get more!"

"The amount is more than is needed," Kirann answered back. "There is no need to be greedy."

"Our repairs will barely dent that," Lorinda agreed with him.

The mayor seemed rather pleased, even as Manheim scoffed. "Excellent, it is settled then. When can you depart?"

"First light," Kirann answered back. "Most of our supplies have been gathered."

The mayor was very pleased by this, "I am glad to hear this. As for the people here that you returned to us, they are among family tonight. There were quite a few families you reunited tonight. You should all be very proud of yourselves."

Most of the gathered heroes puffed up in response to these sweet words. Val though was still hiding, expecting guards to pop out of nowhere to arrest her for some reason. Raven seemed uncomfortable, which raised Lorinda's curiosity. Manheim and Boris though were eating it up and didn't notice any change in the others. Kirann though melted into the background, allowing the others their time in the light.

The mayor called for the town and a massive feast was made for those about to leave. While they all celebrated their freedom, Kirann disappeared. He took some food, and made an appearance before he left for his own solitude. Val and Raven ran off, both feeling self-conscious. Lorinda meanwhile was trapped, between curious towns people and the highly inquisitive treasurer. He was begging her for stories, and she secretly wished someone was here to get her out of it.

The Aasimar monk found a quite place in a small park, away from the grand feast. There he finished the bit of food he had taken with him. Letting out a breath, he relaxed and let the cool night flow over him. The air smelled of ripe trees, not like the evergreen trees from his dreams.

Somewhere out there was a grand mountain range, next to virgin river, surrounded by trees that never lost leaves. The mountains were snowcapped, and the air was crisp and cool. Not many had breathed the fresh air up there, nor tasted the fresh water rushing through the valley below. The animals here were unique to the area, but also very familiar. This was home, the place he was searching for. What completed it was a feminine voice beside him. However, before he could see the person, the vision was interrupted.

"The party seems nice, shouldn't you be enjoying?" asked an angelic messenger. Kirann's guide on this plane.

Kirann couldn't decide if he wanted to be irritated or laugh, "Your timing is perfect as always, Al."

"Of course, I arrive exactly when needed, not a minute before or after" the celestial being replied. "Not a bad start to your career. You did some good work with those people."

"Just doing what I feel is right," Kirann said, almost distracted.

"Still dreaming of the mountains, huh?" Al inquired. "Still say you should try looking on the Celestial Planes. Numerous ranges match what you describe there."

Kirann turned, "Maybe."

"Let me guess, you're musing again?" Al had seen his charge do this throughout his time. Most would call it introspection, but the celestial preferred to think Kirann was getting lost in his head. "I'd remind you to make friends, but it seems you have."

"Off to a good start," Kirann agreed. "Manheim is a lot different. Seems to be more interested in what benefits him."

Al laughed, "Not every mortal has your tenacity to do good for goodness sake. That being said, this 'Raven' is hiding something. I'd suggest keeping an eye on her."

"We all have our secrets," Kirann said, again looking distracted. "I trust her."

"Just be careful," Al placed a paternal hand on Kirann. "I've had the pleasure to guide many a young Aasimar, but never one like you. You may see the good in all, but don't forget mortals can be capable of just as much evil."

Kirann sadly agreed, "I saw some of that recently. However, I also saw my people fight when they could have ran." Seeing his guardian about to argue more, he added, "I'll be sure to be careful."

"Alright kid, you keep up the good work," Al patted him on the back as he started to disappear. "I'll be around, so don't be afraid to call."

With that the Aasimar was left alone to his thoughts again. He noticed a figure trying to desperately hide. As he went over to investigate, it turned out to be the Tiefling boy from the slave camp. Kirann warmly called the boy over, and at first the child was hesitant. Soon though, the boy was beside him.

Finding a bench to sit on, he began to show the boy the stars of the night sky. He told the boy the names and legends associated with each constellation. The boy listened raptly and for a brief moment in the darkness, a young man bonded with a boy their differences absolutely gone. One taught, one learned and in the end, they both were more than before. Eventually Kirann led him back to the rest of the refugees, as the boy had fallen asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part VI

The next morning the group led the refugees out to little fanfare. This was mostly because they left early. Much to the chagrin of Manheim, who was dragged out of his warm bed by Boris and Walton. Val and Raven looked drowsy, but mostly awake as the group left the town's limits. Lorinda was the only one that looked completely awake and rested, while Kirann yawned.

The remaining refugees marched slowly, more a disorganized shamble really. Having been woken from a near full nights rest, the refugees looked and acted like zombies recently raised. As the day wore on, they became more awake and their spirits rose. They were free, on the road to a possible future. Some hoped to find transport home, others to start a new life, while others wanted nothing more than to disappear.

Kirann had the refugees take turns riding in the wagon, with the infirm and children taking more time than the able bodied. Some had been so harmed by their experience though, that they required more time than was expected. For the most part though, things went well.

Many had taken to talking amongst themselves. There were small groups that formed between the travelers, but a sense of protectiveness permeated between them. Lorinda scouted ahead, feeling the need to be one with the natural world. This was her arena, and she felt a responsibility to watch over these travelers.

It would have been nice to have a ranger along, someone that could appreciate nature and its paths like she could. Val could hide, and spring traps. She lacked the ability to feel the world, the life around her. There was a subtle appreciation that druids and rangers had with the wilds, and a comfort in being in them.

About midday she returned and spoke with Kirann, and then the group moved off the current path. Leaving the well worn path, they soon started on a path that was hidden, till you were right on top of it. They continued on, briefly their jubilant chatter stopped. In moments though, as the way became easier, they resumed their lively activities. Further down their original path, a group of bandits waited eagerly.

Two more times the heroes had to guide their group away from dangers of the road. One was another bandit ambush, while the other was a den of warthogs. Soon they came upon the coast city that the mayor had told them about.

Off in the distance was the gleaming spires of mage towers, the magnificence of the royal palace dazzled in the daylight. Closer to them, and beneath the wondrous sight, were the more normal looking buildings. Some were worn, some dirty, most looked lived in for centuries. Packed together haphazardly, they were the business and homes right along the city's lifeblood, the docks.

Even as they came upon the walls of the city, they could make out the massive masts of huge trading ships. They could hear the calls and horns used by such ships for communication. As they entered the walls, they could even make out some of the bigger ships and their crews crawling about them like spiders.

The sights and sounds enraptured the group, and even the heroes found themselves gawking. Raven found herself pulling back from the sights and sounds of the city. She had to retain control, bad things happen when one got distracted. She pined for the release she saw on Val and Kirann's faces. They were both so free in their wonder. Raven could only count on the happy hissing coming from her patron.

Their entrance didn't go unnoticed, as the mayor of Wyvern's Rest had sent a runner the previous day. The captain of this city's guard met them at the arch leading from the city's interior and the way towards the more regal outlying areas. Surrounding the captain were twenty guards, all took positions around the newcomers. Forming a protective bubble around the refugees, the guards became still as statues.

"I am Captain Reynolds of Altamar," the captain introduced himself. "Lord Wallace has commanded me to escort you to the palace, please follow me."

Kirann gave a polite bow, "We follow your lead."

They moved on, while the captain looked over this curious band. They were a motley crew, a half elf, strange looking humans, a holy warrior, Dwarf and a haggard looking mage. If he was right, the sneaky looking one was a rogue. Not one that normally met the ruler of a city or town in broad daylight. The Elf wild woman, had to be a druid, and they tended to stay away from urban areas. Still there was something about them, a sense of destiny about them.

"What do they call you?" the captain asked. "Your group that is."

Kirann said almost as if not thinking, "You can call us the Challengers."

Before the gates to the palace, more guards stood in formation. At their center was the lord of the town, resplendent in dress and mannered as on would expect a lord to be. He commanded attention, respect and had the air of someone who chose right and wrong. To one of the Challengers, the image didn't work. That one saw just a man, with responsibilities and duties to be sure, but just a man.

The captain of the guard stopped in front of the lord, turned to face one side. The escort soldiers turned as well and took four steps back, facing the opposite side. They raised their weapons in salute, before bringing them back down with a clang on the stonework road. The lord of the town stepped forward and immediately the soldiers raised their fists to their chests.

"My lord, these are the heroes called, 'The Challengers.' They escort survivors of bandits," the guard captain explained. "They request an audience with your eminence."

The town's lord smiled, "Thank you Captain. Who leads this band?"

"We have no defined leader, your eminence," Walton answered.

"Not for a lack of the monk trying to take over," Manheim whispered, barely able to be heard.

"I congratulate you brave adventurers on your successful liberation of these thought lost souls. Mayor Smithson sent word of your impending arrival, and I find him to be a man of practically. So, what is it that you would ask of me?" Lord Wallace greeted the adventurers.

"Lord Wallace," Kirann started, "we were advised you might be able to help these people."

Walton tensed up at the monk's direct speech, "They have suffered much, and many are from lands far from here."

"I see, I find your directness refreshing," Lord Wallace couldn't help but like the monk. "Polite, but to the point, a few more of my court could stand a lesson in that."

Kirann bowed slightly, "You honor me."

"An economy of words that display a vast amount of information," Lord Wallace liked this monk. "I'll be as direct with you as well. We have many captains here that can take some of your people. There are caravans that leave for other parts of the country. I can use my influence to get those willing onto them. However, I can't guarantee them passage to everywhere they may be from. As well, they may be required to perform duties during their travel."

"I believe that would be acceptable to them," Walton said. "There are many that are infirm, would you have any idea where they could be placed?"

Lord Wallace knew of such places, "I would advise you to talk with the monasteries and convents. You can find most of them clustered around the cathedrals to the east. They run sanctuaries for the old and infirm, the sick as well."

"Your Eminence," Walton bowed deeply. "Your assistance is most valued, and we humbly thank you for taking your time to personally come to our aid."

"Monk, what are your thoughts on this?" Lord Wallace asked.

"You may call me, Kirann," he explained. "These options allow our charges a chance at living lives. If they wish to take it, they have more than they did before."

Lord Wallace smiled genuinely, "I think my new friend, that I look forward to the future adventures of you and your band. Come, we will discuss a job opportunity."

"What job do you be having us do?" Boris asked.

While enamored by Kirann's speaking, the lord of this town wasn't towards Boris'. A small frown appeared, and his brow furrowed. The Dwarf didn't have the charisma that the monk did, nor the enigmatic way about him. One could see the dark cloud wash over Lord Wallace's face, before lifting as he spoke again.

"It is amazing that you missed the bandits between Wyvern's Rest and here," Lord Wallace explained. "We've had many of our merchants attacked on the road. Most have been robbed, some killed, and some had despicable things done upon them. I would ask you to drive these bandits out, whether by wiping them out or making them reconsider our roads."

"What is the pay for this?" Manheim asked.

"Fifty gold for each road, plus five gold for each bandit confirmed killed. Scalps, unique weapons, or other identifying markers will be acceptable," Lord Wallace laid it out.

"How many roads?" Lorinda asked. "We know of the one from Wyvern's Rest to here."

This time Captain Reynolds answered for his lord, "There are three main roads, the Southern, Northern and Western roads. The secondary roads aren't as well maintained, and there is no telling what you'll find on them."

"So, one hundred fifty gold, with the possibility of more," Manheim mused. "Divided by our group."

"Is very lucrative for such a mission," the guard captain reminded.

"More is happening, to be willing to pay so much, for this type of mission," Kirann said.

"We've had a significant loss in traffic," Lord Wallace explained. "I've had Captain Reynolds lead many patrols, but the bandits always return within days."

Lorinda nodded, "So, you think they may recognize your guards, but may not see a bunch of adventurers as a threat?"

"Makes sense," Raven said aloud. "I'd imagine bandits would look for the easy targets. Too dangerous to attack trained fighters, so they hold off till your patrols aren't as frequent."

"We'll do it," Kirann said.

"It'll be good to make the road safer, make it better for the merchants and others," Walton agreed.

"Excellent," Lord Wallace turned to face them. "Once completed, report back to Captain Reynolds. He'll confirm the work, and make sure you get paid." Turning to the rest of group. "My hospitality is extended to you. Feel free to visit the stores and meeting houses in the city."

With that the lord of Altamar disappeared back into a sea of armor, his guards forming up around him. This left Captain Reynolds to shepherd the refugees to preset staging areas. Kirann and the others were left with one of Reynold's lieutenants, who led them towards one of these meeting houses.

The rest of the night the heroes celebrated. Boris was soon in the cups, being drunk as only a Dwarf can get. Still he managed to cut a pretty good jig on the dance floor. Val let go, and managed to upstage everyone. Her dancing belied her elven heritage, as if connected to a current only she could feel. In the middle of her routine, she began to sing and soon a crowd surrounded her.

Walton took a little coaxing, but he joined in as well. Soon the only dance moves better than his, were Val's. Still for a holy knight, he cut loose particularly well. Lorinda meanwhile waited for Val to finish, before she erupted into an old Elven ballad herself. The song brought all those present to tears, moving them from the highs and lows of life by voice alone.

Manheim disappeared, for all the rest knew, he was hiding in his room. That left Raven, watching from the side, wanting to join in. She yearned, needed to join in, but didn't. It wasn't so much fear, but something else. Her patron, would he use her want against her? He had always required information, knowledge as payment. What if he wanted more in the future, what if he threatened to take away her glamour?

"Why don't you join in, you have the look wanting to?" Kirann asked.

He made her jump, walking up to her without making a sound. She cursed, as he had the ability to do that. She had become so used to the itching feeling, over the last few days, that she hadn't noticed him through that feeling. Yet, beyond the initial surprise, there wasn't any further terror. Her heart was definitely beating, yet she wouldn't admit that his presence was becoming a comfort.

Raven said, "I'm not much of a dancer, and I don't think any bard can compete with our druid friend."

He laughed at that, "I think you are right. However, Lorinda is always telling me that the soul needs release. She also teases me for my ability at martial arts, but having two left feet."

"So, your big move is to tell me you have two left feet?!" she teased him. "I can tell you don't get out much."

"Still, there is music, and it calls to the soul," Kirann replied. "Together nobody will notice how bad we are."

Despite herself, Raven smiled, "You are incorrigible. Alright, however you're to blame for any laughter we get."

Extending out his hand, Kirann said, "I'll take that chance."

The Aasimar led her to a clearing and they started to dance. He wasn't as bad as he claimed, but she could tell he wasn't used to dancing. Nor was she as out of practice as she feared. They both complimented each other and even made it seem as if their two minds were connected. In sync they danced together, creating a show meant only for them.

Raven felt herself letting go, but she pulled back. She had to keep a little concentration on her glamour. Kirann though didn't seem to have that problem, as she saw him let loose. There was an innocence, a pureness to him. She knew he could fight, and had seen him lay into enemies with a ferocity she had yet to see.

Raven felt herself laugh, and Kirann joined her. For the moment everything disappeared and she just enjoyed the night. She wasn't sure when the songs had changed or who was singing now, but it didn't matter. They had gone passed their roles and were just two people in the night.

For the rest of the night, they along with their group enjoyed themselves. Soon their party wound down and each went to their rooms. A good night led to waking to the morning, where some recuperated, and some were like fresh daisies. It was time to start their next missions, even as the wonderful night before replayed in their memories.


	7. Chapter 7

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part VII

The next morning the bandits were active. With the cancellation of the scheduled patrol, they were at play. It was a slow morning, the merchants had been slow to trickle back in, patrols or not. However, there was still to be traffic. Whether it be pilgrims traveling, commoners fleeing one of the many conflicts in the area, or holy disciples on a mission, they still came.

So, the heavily used, but still functional wagon whet their appetites. Along side it walked four shrouded figures, similar to the poor monks that inhabited the northern areas. The two huddled masses in the cart, were bundled up like maidens on their way to marry. The driver was hooded, but look emaciated due to how his cloak dwarfed him.

This probably wouldn't be an instant profit, but the maidens would catch a fair price at the auction. So, the bandits set their ambush and waited for the cart to get into position before they sprang out. The driver immediately brought the cart and the horses to a stop, while the bandits surrounded them. The four walking commoners clutched the wagon, seeming to reach into it for protection.

Eight bandits surrounded them, each with their weapons drawn. They had a mishmash of short swords, axes and long daggers. They were outfitted in simple leather armor, some maintained better than others. A few were just in their regular clothes. They weren't soldiers sent by a rival kingdom then, just regular miscreants looking to make a score.

"I see 'ere, t'at you have somet'ing t'at belongs ta us!" one of the bandits cried out to the stopped wagon. "Give us the wagon, an' riches ya got and dem lovelies in da wagon."

"No," came the reply from the driver.

"W'at?!" screamed the bandit, but he never got to finish his next complaint. "Are ya daft! Ki…."

The driver stood up and threw his cloak back, showing a lithe figure in martial robes. Beside the wagon, a man in full plate appeared, across from him a Dwarf sneered as he swung an axe into the nearest bandit. Manheim and Lorinda shouted out spells as their own cloaks fell back to reveal them. Raven shot out an Eldritch blast, while Val locked onto her own target, and jumped from the wagon.

The original speaking bandit started to attack, but found a fist to his face, the bandit to his right a kick to the throat. That one went down, even as the speaker backpedaled. He brought his sword up to swing, but missed the monk by millimeters. He received a punch, followed by an elbow that sent him to the ground. Blood pooled on the ground, flowing freely from his mouth. He didn't see the crescent kick that ended him.

By that time the other bandit was up and he took a swing, which glanced off the monk. Kirann looked at where the weapon had barely hit and then back at the bandit. Shaking his head, he struck with a savage side kick. The bandit fell where he stood, lifeless. At which point the monk looked for his next target.

Boris was gleefully smashing down upon his target, his axe renting great chunks out of the poor bandit. Walton was locked in combat with his, but soon ended it with two swift strikes. The first crippled the bandit, the second relieved the bandit of his head. By this time Boris had finally finished off his bandit, and they turned to look at the rest of the party.

Val and Raven were doing just fine against their targets. Val parried the short sword from her attacker and counter attacked with a swift stab. The bandit fell, clutching their stomach. Instead of going for the kill, she lashed out with a hard kick and sent the bandit into darkness. Raven blasted another and slashed the bandit through the stomach. She turned just as the bandit fell dead.

Initially Manheim had nearly killed his bandit, sending out a magic missile to skewer her. However, the bandit got in close, and even near death she had strength. Knocking the wizard down, she raised her sword to run him through. Only a blast of sunlight fire hit her, followed by an Eldritch blast. The bandit twirled through the air from both hits, and landed hard on the ground.

The bandit looked up as the monk, in his robes walked up to her. She shivered, and was scared. Her body and mind understood that she had sustained too much damage to continue living. She was afraid, as her vision started to wink out. Her life played before her, and she knew regret.

"It is okay," the monk said. "We will not harm you any further."

"It is not my fault," she croaked. "I just wanted a better life."

"Tell me," Kirann said as he pulled her hand into his, hands that were warm.

The bandit shuddered, struggling for strength, "My words sound hollow as I think them. Put out when I was six, used by men and women. Beaten, till I could barely stand. Always hungry, wanting for a life without this."

Kirann put a kind hand against her face, "Our circumstances are not always ours to choose, what we do with them is. In your next life I wish you a better life, and better choices."

He held her till she lapsed her last breath. Then took what he needed to get the reward. Then with the others, started to prepare the bodies. The group gathered materials to make an impromptu firepit. Manheim was still stinging from nearly dying, so he just sat muttering to himself. Boris just started throwing bodies in, but was soon chastised by the others. Instead they laid them all together, but with a respect to the once living.

Once they were all gathered, Manheim lit the bodies on fire. That left the one bandit, the one Val hadn't killed. Boris went to split his skull, but was stopped by Walton and Kirann. The Dwarf of course announced his annoyance, but the monk and paladin were adamant. So, he stomped off to have a post battle brew.

"What to do with you?" Manheim said, fire spread between his fingertips.

Kirann stepped between the mage and the bandit, "Tie him up and gag him. We have several more stops, then we can take him to the city."

"Whatever you say 'fearless leader.' I still say we kill him, how many has he killed," Manheim said.

Boris agreed, "I say the pansy wizard is right. Kill them all now, bandits are the same as goblins and kobolds."

"No!" shouted Val. "We just can't go around killing people."

"What do you think we just did, missy?" Boris angrily shot back. "We took out these bandits."

"We fought because they were a danger to travelers," Kirann reminded. "Val stopped him without killing. That should be commended."

"You're just soft," Manheim growled. "You coddled that bandit earlier."

"At the end of your life," Kirann countered, "may you have someone to comfort you. These people have made mistakes, but people they are."

"What in the bloody hells are you on, monk?" Boris growled. "These are bandits, they are worthless."

"Every life has worth, every one," Kirann explained. "Now let's get the bandit ready, we still have more to hit."

The Challengers struck three more bandit groups, each time the result was the same. By the end, only two bandits remained alive as prisoners. The rest were killed, and most never got the final goodbye that Kirann had given. Two more did, and each time he stayed with them till their final moments. He provided them warmth, and to Raven warmth flowed over her, as she watched him.

His act of kindness, to his enemies, was unique. So was the warmth that seemed to radiate off of him. She noticed it as she got closer, during one of the instances. It was as if the air had warmed, and the sun was warming every inch of her. Raven wondered if that was the same feeling the soon to be departed received. Once more, she found herself being drawn to him and also fearing what he was capable of.

What came next just intensified that fear. On their way back to Altamar a scream came from nearby. Changing direction to find the source, the group noticed a gargoyle making off with a small child. Without thinking, Raven shot out an Eldritch Blast, hitting the gargoyle direct on. A bright flash nearly blinded her, but not enough that she didn't see the child drop.

Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach, and she nearly dropped her Khopesh. However, just as she hit a low, something miraculous happened. Kirann swooped up to catch the girl, on brilliant wings of pure light. He held the child close to him as he hovered, and slowly drifted back to the ground. The gargoyle came back at him, only to receive a sunlight fire blast to the face.

It fell to the ground, where a waiting Walton sliced into it, holy power radiating off his sword. Lorinda helped the paladin finish the creature off, while Kirann softly landed with the sobbing child. Grateful parents took the crying child and looked at the Aasimar monk with wonder and reverence.

Raven saw the radiance, the golden wings, come from this man of few words. He looked like an angel, from all the stories about them. In one respect it was the beauty of creation, and yet so perfect to be terrifying. Even when he let the wings disappear, the same fullness that normally permeated him, remained.

A thought occurred to her, whether her own curiosity or her patrons, she didn't know. Why were his wings in the shape of a dragon's, instead of the normal bird like angelic wings? Were there different type of Aasimar, with different shapes of wings, or was he unique even amongst his own kind?

The parents, commoners, tried to get the heroes to stay, but they had to decline. There was the matter of the mission to complete and the prisoners to drop off. Kirann and Lorinda promised to return back, and it was the only way to assuage the grateful people. As they left Val gave Kirann a friendly bump. He smiled, but there was a fatigue to it.

They made it back to Altamar without any further issues. Captain Reynolds took over the two prisoners. One needed immediate attention, so a healer was called from the Temple of Ilamater. The good captain also collected the proof of all the other bandits stopped. After counting, he gave them a note to give to the treasurer. Who would then give them their reward for a job well done, and each of the group went off to enjoy the fruits of their labor.

While the Challengers rested and enjoyed their rewards, a dark power awakened to the East. In a dark cathedral, build with bone and blood, sat disciples of the Lord of Murder. Before them were images of an Aasimar flying up. Those gathered around wore smiles of pure hatred on their faces. Eyes covered by the shadows of their cowls, tiny red specks were the only proof of where they rested.

"Another has shown themselves," one of the gathered snarled. "The payment for the location is steep, but we can not let a Celestial born become powerful. This thing would be a powerful adversary for our lord."

A shrieking, nail on chalkboard voice said, "The price is eight youths, just entering into adulthood. Number them half females and half males. Along with them, four goats are to be brought for sacrifice."

"They will be ready by the next full moon," the cultist advised.

The voice replied back, "The knowledge will be granted upon the completion of our contract."

That night as Kirann laid down to sleep, he had no idea of the forces being readied against him. Raven and Val were enjoying a small portion of drink, and Raven was ignoring the itching of her pact mark. In her dreams though, her patron sent her a message. One that made her wake up in a cold sweat.

"Find out the weakness of the Aasimar you travel with," her patron directed. "Why is he unique among all the ones we've seen before. To further your abilities, new gifts will be allotted to you. Do not fail me, my best agent."

Outside the inn the Challengers were staying out, an ethereal glowing figure blinked into existence. He walked around the perimeter three times, then said a small prayer. A semi-transparent light erected around the inn. Invisible to all but a select few, but a barrier that would keep out unwanted entities. The figure turned towards the inn and smiled.

"Kid, keep safe," Al said. His words meant for Kirann, but knowing the young man was not awake to hear them. "Something is shifting, and I fear dark forces are becoming aware of you. You're off to a good start, I just hoped you'd be stronger before they found you. But if anyone can stop them, you can. Of all the souls I've shepherded, you're different."

Al disappeared in a flash of light. Two eyes of a dryad saw him leave, and the being recognized him. The angel that Kirann called Al, was Alexael, one of the angels of justice and vengeance. The dryad though wasn't interested in that, but her friend was. Lorinda had been worried that her goofy friend was just being used by the Celestials. The dryad was going to be very glad to report that was not the case. Now all she had to do was find a place to wait, to give her report. After that, it was back to the forests. Cities just weren't for her.


	8. Chapter 8

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part VIII

Over the next three weeks, the Challengers traveled the roads between Altamar; the towns and cities around it. Bandits and monsters were cleared out, and soon the roads were the safest they had been in years. Each town rewarded the adventurers with gold and precious items. Their reputation grew, and more people were hearing the name of these brave heroes.

As they gained notoriety, more and more of the courts around Atamar and Wyvern's Rest became interested in the heroes. Manheim loved this, as more and more he got to match wits with other wizards. The attention they gave him fed into his ego, making him feel as important as he thought he was.

The knights and guards took a shine to Walton and Boris. Many stopped by to buy the Dwarf a drink, and here some of his incredible stories. Others challenged Walton to some friendly duels, or to train with them. No matter what, the two armored warriors were among brothers and sisters.

Val ended up spending some time with the local orphanages, and some of the temples dedicated to the gods. However, most shocking to her, was a young noble kept dragging her to balls. The younger woman, barely out of her child years, found her one day at a Temple to Sune. Recognizing Val, the young noble took her on a shopping trip, and then back to the manor for dancing lessons. To the Half-Elf, it was like having a younger sister, as the young noble adopted her in all but name.

While Val ran around with her new friend, Raven took advantage of the massive libraries to found. She poured over lore and knowledge not normally seen by anyone other than the most powerful. Most of this she kept for herself, as her patron was more interested in Kirann recently. So, for the first time in a very long time, Raven learned for her own curiosity.

While Lorinda spent her day in the massive park in Altamar, the laconic spoken monk found a friend in the court wizard. Lord Wallace's wizard, Bruce Robertson, had instantly taken to him. It wasn't anything in particular, but that peculiar thing, where two people meet become friends. Though rare, these bonds did happen, and it seemed to be mutual.

Curiously Bruce would ask about Kirann's order, and the abilities being a Sun Soul monk gave him. The monk, for his part, was equally curious about the nature of wizard studying, and how they developed their abilities. Though they had their differences, one being a warrior of inner strength, the other a master of arcane, their bond was of mutual respect.

The quick friendship did no favors for Manheim, who was instantly jealous and outraged. Mostly this was because he couldn't understand how a mystic master would ever find such a simple person as worthy to spend time with. Nor could they explain it in a way that he could understand. There was no advantage to the relationship, and neither held power over the other. To him, it was just a flabbergasting, exhausting conundrum.

It was nearing a month, since they started their mission, that things started to change. As a result of their losses, most of the bandits had stayed away. Only the leaders with their lieutenants came looking for trouble. Over the last few weeks, the Challengers had taken out all of the other underlings. Now it was time for the bosses to show how things were done.

These bandits were better armed, better armored and had survived for years. In short, they were much better prepared. They also went to the areas where their people had disappeared, finding a few of the funeral pyres left over. Unfortunately, there had too much traffic for their trackers to accurately find out what had happened. They could tell them that at least two were heavily armored, and there were signs of magical combat.

The information about mages being there did little to help. At any give time on the continent of Faerun, there was some type of magic user running around. Wizards, warlocks, sorcerers, arcane tricksters, eldritch knights, etcetera and etcetera abounded. There were also too many warriors and other heavy armored foes, for that to be of any use. No, the only part that was helpful, was that most of the bandits had been taken by surprise.

So, the bandits did listen, as was a smart thing to do. The travelers were very jubilant, their lips free with information. That was how the bandits learned of a group called, "The Challengers." How they had cleaned up the roads and destroyed the bandits. The leaders then kidnapped a few of the more loudmouthed travelers.

Days later, after many torture sessions and false promises, they had their intelligence. Their victims disposed of in the most reckless fashion. The bodies would be found days later by other travelers. The bandit leaders were okay with this, that would draw out the do gooders, hastening their demises. Once taken care of, they would rebuild. Adventurers could be such a bother, but sometimes their falls could be very entertaining.

What they didn't expect was a hooded figure to be waiting for them, at their camp outside the city. The figure was slight and emaciated looking, but the bandit leaders didn't pull their weapons. Something in the aura of the figure warned of pain, death, something even worse. It bespoke of dark magic, something they wanted to avoid at all cost. Of course, sending the figure away too quickly, could also cause issues.

"Hark, who are you?!" of the bandit leaders asked.

The figure drew up its head, "I have a proposition for you. You will take it, of course."

"With respect," another bandit leader reached for his throwing knife. "We are currently busy at the moment."

The figure turned to look at him, "Yes, yes. You seek one that we want eliminated. This group you hunt, among them is one you will kill."

"We will kill them all," the third bandit leader calmly said.

The figure laughed, "Of course! Till you see the pretty females that are in that group. An Elf, Half-Elf and a young human. You can have them too, and you can do whatever horrible things to the paladin and warrior. The monk is to die, and die quickly."

"Why are you interested in a simple monk?" The first leader asked.

The second leader interjected, "You didn't talk about the wizard with them."

"The monk is an Aasimar, they are to be destroyed," the figure explained. "I could destroy the wizard with a mere flick of my wrist right now."

"With respect then, why do you need us to kill this monk?" the third asked. "Not that we don't appreciate the offer."

The figure turned, "You ask a good question, so I'll give you a good answer. Too many interested eyes are on the Aasimar."

"So basically, if we kill him, those forces you want to avoid, will just consider it destiny," the second leader thought out loud. "However, if your mark is all over it, they come for you."

The figure nodded, "I can see why you three lead. Yes, hunting bandits is dangerous. Anything can happen. Now, here is where I help you." The figure held out a small rod. "Even you can use this. Just say the magic word, 'diabolicus.' It will call demon infused Ogre. You can command it, and you'll find your fight going in your favor in no time."

"This won't rouse the suspicion of those you wish to keep from seeing?" the first bandit leader was curious now.

The figure shook its head, "No, this came from the stockpile of Archwizard Archibald. I hear he's currently the plaything of a succubus in some tavern out to the east."

"So, what is the catch? Because there is always a catch with your type," the third leader asked.

The figure spoke plainly, "You fail, you die. Even if they spare you, I've put a spell on you now. If you don't kill the Aasimar in the next week and a half, you die. However, succeed and we can continue helping one another. An army of undead or thralls might make you kings, or certain artifacts will all but make you invincible. Success has many rewards."

The first leader understood, "No matter what we have to do your bidding."

"Yes," the figure said. "You were ready to kill him before, now I can guarantee that you'll follow through. Ingenious isn't my strategy. I will return later to see to the completion of this task."

The figure walked off, leaving the three bandit leaders to their thoughts. They were dark thoughts, and not just for their original target. The dark cultist may have them at a disadvantage, but nobody bullied them. They'd find a way to complete the task, and take their new friend's power over them away. Still, with the promise of power, maybe there was a way for them to work together. As partners rather than servants, that would be preferable. Though one of the leaders would just be happy not to deal with any cultists again. His only thought was to get the coin coming back in.

Days later the Challengers were led to the bodies of several merchants by the city guard. They had been mutilated and killed slowly, that much was discernible on their corpses. Val looked at the wounds and shuddered. She had seen such wounds before, made by daggers, very sharp daggers. Her heart sank at the pain these people must have been put through. Without realizing it, she touched the holy symbol around her neck. The one that nobody saw, but was always close to her heart.

"Sir Walton," one of the guards said. "We found them like this. One of the other merchants found them this morning."

The paladin nodded, "These marks look familiar."

Raven spoke up, her voice soft, "They are marks from the bandits we've been dealing with."

"The bodies laid out like this, they wanted them found," Kirann reasoned. "It is a challenge."

"You can't know that!" exclaimed Manheim.

Boris grunted, and then explained, "Of course he's right, you mush brained wizard."

Walton agreed with Boris, "Why else leave them out to be found? There was barely any attempt to hide the bodies."

Val put her hand to her chest, not sure what to say or what to do. Her eyes locked with Raven, and they held massive sadness in them. Walton was full of righteous fury, and Boris looked excited about a change in routine. He was looking for a fight, even as much as Manheim was hoping to avoid conflict. Lorinda wandered off to track, find where the attackers had gone off to. That left Kirann, and if her eyes were playing tricks on her, he was on fire.

A brilliant aura of shimmering heat, like on a hot summer's day, rolled off of him. The light bent around, and he himself seemed richer in color. He walked off, and the ground beneath him shed just a slight wisp of steam. Then scarily, the shimmer disappeared. Val could almost see Kirann's eyes glow, before they returned back to their blue color.

It was then that Lorinda returned, and he asked, "Do you know which way they went?"

"Yes, they were very clumsy," Lorinda explained. "However, their tracks soon disappeared off, but not before they met with another. The tracks after that became harder to track. Well, at least the ones they wanted us to follow. The other set was hidden, but I managed to find it with some friends' help. I don't think these are the same types as we have faced before."

"We move out then," Kirann said. "Prepare and let's keep our heads clear."

The rest of the day, the Challengers followed the tracks the bandit leaders had left. Slowly they made their way, understanding that they could be walking into a trap. They camped without a campfire, and kept a lookout as night spread its dark blanket over the sky. Kirann barely slept that night.

That night, Al found him sitting up looking at the moon. The Celestial angel felt concern for his charge. Something was wrong, though he couldn't explain it. Being on a higher plane of existence, he was privy to somethings mortals wouldn't. The fact that he didn't know bothered him. He couldn't guide or counsel without knowing what they faced, and that irritated him.

"Copper for your thoughts," Raven found herself saying. She wasn't sure why she asked, but when he answered back, she felt relieved.

He said distantly, "Something inside me burns to repay injustice. The stronger I get, the more it pushes me."

"Sounds painful," she playfully jested. "Sorry, bad taste I know."

She didn't expect him to laugh, "No, you're fine. Not painful, just intense. That instinct and wisdom sometimes conflict. I want to rush in and fight, but I know we have to play this smart."

"You value her input," Raven said without thinking and regretted it.

He smiled again, "I value both your inputs. Just as I value Val's when she gives it. When it comes to arcane matters, I'll listen to Manheim."

Raven once again tried to figure out this odd man, but just ended up sitting with him on watch. They passed the rest of the night in silence, with her falling asleep next to him. When she awoke in the morning, she found his blanket wrapped around her. She woke warm and rested. She was about to ask for him when Lorinda came back to the camp.

"I found them," the druid said.

What next came across her face was a promise of vengeance. The group hurriedly packed up their camp, then left. Minutes later they were where their targets were, and the trap was ready to be sprung. The heroes didn't know it yet, but that day was not going to go according to plan.

The bandit leaders watched as three people walked into the clearing. It was a clearing between farmlands to the south and the forest to the east. To the north led back to Altamar, and through the forests to the east of it. They called their scouts, looking for the others of the Challengers. Reports had their numbers around six, so only half showed up. However, the scouts couldn't find any signs of the others.

The bandit leaders knew great joy at their foes' apparent overconfidence. Their success against the underlings had given them a sense of invincibility, one that the bandit leaders were glad to rob from them. The rest would be dealt with in time, for the moment though, it was time to strike back.

As the three warriors reached the ambush site, the bandit leaders signaled and a horn blew. Out from the forest rushed ten bandits, along with their three leaders. At the edge of the forest were six archers, sending deadly missiles ahead of the rest. The ambush was on, with one leader holding the trump card. Attached to his waist was the demon ogre wand.

Six arrows flew out, and Boris barely got his shield up in time. Four hit his shield, one stuck, the other three fell away. The two that got passed, one bounced off Walton's gleaming armor, and the other was caught by Kirann. Another set was about to come their way, so they prepared.

Cocking his head in incredulousness at the bandits, Kirann threw the arrow straight into an oncoming fighter. The bandit fell with a gurgle, while his fellow bandits slowed their advance. Shock at seeing the monk throw the arrow back, with enough force to be lethal, stayed their enthusiasm to engage in battle.

Another barrage came, this time Boris managed to catch all six arrows with his shield. Once again one stuck, with two colliding with each other, and one bouncing off the first stuck arrow. The rest fell harmlessly to the ground. By then the bandit ambushers were nearly on the Challengers. The archers had one more volley, before they would need to move.

The archers pulled back on their bows, only for two to fall in rapid fashion. The first fell with an arrow to the back. Another flew in a twisted path, as an Eldritch Blast smashed into him. The other four were soon thrown into the air as a fireball landed at their feet. Two didn't survive the fall. One was nearly dead from the onset, struggling to move, while the remaining one managed back to their feet. Val and Raven finished them off with quick efficient work.

The bandit leaders heard the explosion of sound and turned. As their fighters kept advancing on the three heroes, the leaders saw their archers were gone. Only a smoking ruin left where they had been. That is when they knew that the Challengers had sprung their own trap. Naturally their first words were curses.

The bandits rushing forth stopped suddenly, entangling vines and the like throwing them to the ground. The bandit leaders watched in horror as a druid emerged from the forest, her staff blade sending out a magical missile into one of the prone bandits. Another struck, this time coming from where the archers had been. An Eldritch Blast rocketed from edge, took out another of their fighters.

Down one from the onset, two more bandits were dead. They still outnumbered the Challengers ten to seven. Those weren't the odds the leaders were looking for. That was before they saw the paladin and monk rush forward. Behind them the stubby legged Dwarf was hooting and hollering in glee. It was then, that they knew it was time.

Kirann caught one bandit as he unentangled himself, and hit him with two kicks, before lashing out at another bandit. Beside him, Walton swung out with this great sword. It bit into the bandit dodging Kirann's attack. Boris meanwhile slammed into two others and he started maniacally hacking into them.

An arrow hit Walton's armor, and he turned to see one of the bandit leaders lining up another shot with a bow. As the leader drew the string, a blast of sunlight fire hit him square in the chest. The leader fell with a loud yell, and fire erupted on his armor. Walton turned to Kirann with a quick salute of thanks.

However, what he didn't expect and what gave even Boris pause, came next. One of the leaders aimed a rod at them, and uttered a word, "diabolicus!" From the rod came a whirling storm of ether, that ripped the surrounding area apart. When it came back together, a truly horrendous sight was left. An ogre about ten feet tall, with red skin and black protrusions was left.

The eyes of the ogre were ichor black, except for the pupils, which were blood red. The bone like protrusions were black as onyx and sharp. The points dripped something like green mucus, and the ogre's mouth was full of fangs. It roared in a terrible manner, making allies and enemies alike clutch their ears in pain.

The demon ogre rushed towards the three fighters. Along the way, it smashed two bandits under its footfalls. As it neared, the ogre smashed out with its huge mace, and two more bandits perished. The ogre's targets, the monk and the fighter weren't there. The fighter because Walton pulled the Dwarf back with a massive heave. Kirann because he agilely jumped to the side. As he came back up, he sent another radiant sun bolt out.

The bolt hit the monster, and the ogre screamed in pain. However, the damage was great enough to take it out. He had maybe two more in him like that. Kirann wasn't sure two more would be enough, maybe if he hit it as just the right spot. Manheim, Raven and Lorinda would be needed to finish this thing off.

"Walton, Boris, you and Val finish off those bandits and their leaders," Kirann shouted to the other warriors. "Tell Manheim and Raven to get over here, Lorinda too."

"You've got a plan?" Walton said as he jumped away from an all too close club strike.

The Dwarf shouted with glee as he swung and his axe hit the ogre's leg, "Of course he does, but I'm about to bring this boy down to size."

The axe head didn't even dig into the ogre, instead Boris was swatted away and landed feet away like a ragdoll. Walton ran over to him, pulling his holy energies into his hands. Quickly he laid his hands on the Dwarf and Boris' wounds began to close, both external and internal. Walton turned to see the ogre nearly on him, before a flash of light caught everyone's attention.

All attention was temporarily on the monk. Golden, dragon like wings were spread out from his back. His eyes glowed like gold fire, and his fists were on fire. Around him the air shimmered, and an aura of light could be briefly seen. Kirann stood in ready position and beckoned the ogre to come at him.

Before the ogre could respond, the monk flew into the air and closed the distance. As he got closer, a savage kick broke the ogre's nose and scarred its face. It swatted at him, but he dodged and sent a sun bolt right into its left eye. He followed up with another kick.

The ogre roared in pain, and the loss of its eye. Reflexively it backhanded at the flying monk, and hit him. With the wind knocked out of him, Kirann barely caught himself on his golden wings. So, he landed on his feet instead of crashing into the ground. He still hurt, but it didn't feel like anything was broken. He also didn't want to get hit like that again, the first time had taken enough out of him.

He did have the ogre's attention, as it came at him with full fury. He prepared himself for attack, when a magic missile slammed into the side of the ogre's head. It turned to find the druid, Lorinda, her staff blade ready to attack. It went to attack when a bright light flashed in its remaining eye.

Manheim watched the fight go south, and he started to flee. The demon ogre was more than he wanted to fight. He had signed up for hunting bandits for profit, and with the way the monster had taken out the dwarf, not for this. His path was blocked by the warlock, Raven. Before he could mouth a spell, her Khopesh was at the ready.

"Where do you think you are going?" Raven hissed.

He pointed to the falling Aasimar, "This is not a fight we can win. Wonder boy there is about to go splat on the ground. I, for one, didn't sign up to die!"

"That is a demon ogre," Raven explained. "Kirann is still up and Lorinda is there with him. Our magic can harm that beast, they need our help."

His sneering smile almost made her run him through, as he said, "That sounds like a 'them' problem, not a 'me' problem."

"Until I decide to put this dagger into something you can't magic back," a snarling Val said from behind him. "He would come for us!"

Manheim knew he was defeated, for now, "Fine, come Raven, I'm not doing this suicide mission alone."

"Wouldn't dream of letting you out of my sight," Raven said. "Val, check on Walton and Boris. The bandit leaders are still on the field."

"Not for long," Val growled as she disappeared.

The bandit leaders were pleased that the ogre was providing just the distraction they needed. The Challengers were so focused on it, and trying to survive, that they had forgotten about them. One painfully pulled back his bow, the monk's flames having seared him nearly to a crisp. It hurt like hell, but it would be worth it to kill their enemies.

Only he felt a sharp pain in his chest and looked down to see the cause. There, nearly in the center of his chest, was a plain, but sharp dagger. Its handle stuck out, while its deadly tip pierced his heart. Suddenly he felt weak, and dropped to his knees. The owner of the dagger rushed up and yanked the knife out. Minutes later the archer leader would be dead.

The other two turned their attention onto the Half-Elf rogue, already their weapons aimed directly at her. She dodged the first, while the second glanced off her leather armor. She still felt blood trickle down, as part of her armor failed and she was cut. She threw her dagger out again, but this time her target deflected it with a sword strike.

Val had to jump back, and twist to the left to avoid the next volley of attacks. She parried the next attack, and managed to hit the second leader with a quick slash. It opened up his face, but beyond that wasn't that damaging. Just above his brow, and the blood would have blinded him. On the cheek, all it did was make him angry. Which he was.

The bandit leader with the slashed face came at her with a vengeance, but not enough were he couldn't coordinate with the other leader. Val found herself on the defensive, and several more slashes appeared on her legs and arms. More blood fell, and she found herself slowing down. Then one leader swatted one of her blades away, and she was wide open for the other's attack.

Val knew her goose was cooked, but was pleasantly surprised as a great sword swung in and stopped the other blade. She looked up to find the gleaming armored Walton standing there, and there wasn't a more magnificent sight for her at that moment. It wasn't every day that a knight in shining armor came to your aid.

"Kirann was very explicit, these three are to be stopped," Walton explained as he pushed one bandit leader back. "Well two, looks like you took care of one already."

"Where's Boris?" Val asked as she ducked another sword swing.

Slashing down hard, Walton felt his blade bite into his bandit leader's shoulder. The leader screamed as he fell, squirming in great pain and unable to focus enough put up a fight. With that one down, he turned his attention to Val's target and attacked. This time his attack removed the bandit leader's head from his shoulders, which fell to the ground just by the body.

"I stabilized him, but he took a bad hit from the ogre," Walton explained. Then his eyes went wide as Val drew her spare dagger and threw it towards him.

The flying weapon rocketed passed his head and embedded itself into his original opponent. Turning quickly, Walton saw the bandit leader fall to the ground. In the hand of his good shoulder, the bandit leader had a hand axe, and had been read to bury it in Walton's head. The paladin turned back to the rogue and gave her a quick thank you.

She smiled, "Got to watch each other's backs. Let's go check on the others."

Kirann was tired and battered. Even blinded by his light spell, the ogre had still come close to smashing him into a greasy spot. Raven's Eldritch Blasts had chipped away at the beast, and Manheim had nearly expended all of his known spells for that day. Lorinda was nearly out of spells too. She dodged in and out, trying to hit it with her blade staff. However, her attacks were about as effective as Boris' original attempt.

"Raven, hit it in the knee!" Kirann yelled. "Manheim, if you have another fireball, use it. Wait till after Raven hit's it. Lorinda get back!"

Raven's blast hit the creature, just as Kirann had wanted. The pain made the ogre fall to one knee and then Manheim's fireball to the face brought the creature down. It roared in pain, and was immediately trying to get back up. Kirann was on the move though, he had to get into position.

"Now Raven, hit it in the neck!" Kirann shouted as he ran up a tree.

She did as he wanted, a blackened burnt patch appeared on the ogre's neck. Exposed thanks to that, were the musculature, veins and bones of the ogre. High in the air now, Kirann had just the right angle and he twisted. Using the last of his energy, he shot out a final radiant sun bolt. The bolt hit, severing the neckbones of the ogre apart.

Kirann landed hard, the air knocked out of him, but with satisfaction. The demon ogre let out a strangled gasp, before it stopped moving. He didn't like killing, even an abomination like this. This beast though would have continued on, becoming a terror upon the villages nearby.

"That was a good plan," Raven said as she helped him up.

He was in pain, but her appraisal made it just a bit easier, "Glad you approve. I need a vacation."

This made Raven laugh, "Maybe we'll have to look at that. You okay?"

"I'll live. A little rest is all that is needed," he responded back. "How is everyone else?"

Walton and Val had caught back up by then, "Wow, you guys did it," the paladin said.

"According to the knight in shining armor here," Val said, "Boris is stabilized. Kirann, no offense, you look like hell."

"None taken," the monk had decided that he needed a rest and sat right on the ground.

"What about that thing," Lorinda pointed towards the recently deceased ogre. "I'm not sure we want the wildlife eating demon flesh."

"The control rod might have a way of getting rid of it," Raven said. "Which leader had it?"

They found the rod on the leader that Walton had decapitated. Raven was able to decipher the writing on it, and was able to activate it to disintegrate the ogre's body. It at least got rid of it, and hopefully kept the local wildlife from being corrupted. Lorinda would be happy, and truth be told, that made Raven feel better.

She looked back at Kirann, noticing he was moving a little better, but obviously still in pain. The others were various states of injury, with Boris being the worst. Lorinda had applied more healing spells to him, but must have used at least on the monk. Walton limped, but otherwise was fine, and Val was covered in bandages. Lorinda gave her a light healing potion, which stopped the bleeding.

In such bad shape, the Challengers took what they needed and left the scene of the battle. They did build a pyre for the bandits slain, and burned the bodies. This time, they had to do it with regular torches. As they left, the pyre burned safely away from the forest. By the next day, the pyre would be just a huge pile of dust.

A lone hooded figure walked upon the scene, "You three disappointed me. One band of adventurers was too much for you. Even with my gift, you failed. Still, to defeat that beast, maybe they are stronger than we were led to believe. No matter, we will just send something bigger, and with more teeth next time."


	9. Chapter 9

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part IX

The road back to town was long, and the Challengers ended up heading to Wyvern's Rest. With their pursuit of the bandits taking them farther from Altamar, and Wyvern's Rest happened to be closer. They made it back to town, near dusk and the guards barely recognized them. Instantly the call to help went out.

By that time, their wounds had caught up with them. As well as losing the edge that adrenaline gives, each of the Challengers was a shambling mess. To be fair, Manheim was more exhausted than hurt. Boris was walking, but he stumbled around like a Dwarf too drunk to walk. Val ended up leaning heavily on Walton, while Lorinda and Raven both gave Kirann worried looks.

Soon they found themselves surrounded by clerics and guards. The mayor was on his way, with the guard captain beating him by a few minutes. Within the hour, the heroes were healed and led to a warm bed at the Mayor's mansion. Raven and Kirann were the last two to turn in, making sure the rest were taken care of. When they did, both dropped into a deep slumber.

The next day they awoke to a hearty meal, and clean gear. The mayor's people had spent all night repairing their armor and cleaning it from the previous day's battles. Manheim was torn between being irritated that someone touched his things, and touched that they gave him the respect he deserved. The paladin and the monk were humbler, and appreciative. Val, being a rogue, counted everything out, just to be sure.

After eating and thanking their host for the shelter, they moved out to collect their reward. With three bandit leaders gone, Lord Wallace would be very appreciative. It also meant their job may be done for, as it would take a while for the bandits to regroup. If they ever did, for now the roads were safe, and that was all that mattered.

As they left, the group caught sight of a black flash of fur, being chased by some local dogs. Kirann followed, curious about what the dogs were chasing. What he found, being cornered by four angry dogs, was a small black cat, barely past being a kitten.

The little cat hissed and puffed itself up, trying to scare off the dogs. The monk calmed the dogs, or at least tried. In the end Lorinda was able to get them to heel. That allowed him to walk up to the scared cat and scoop it up. He pulled it in tight, pressing firmly like a mother cat would do to her kitten. Petting it, he found some cloth and wrapped it up like a little cat burrito. Then rubbing the little cat's head, he walked it passed the now pacified dogs.

Talking in low tones, Kirann comforted the cat, "Hey there little one, you're safe now. What's your name?"

"You have to name it," Manheim exclaimed like the monk was crazy.

The monk ignored him, "Shadow is a good name for you, but you're more than that. You're a hunter, see you growing very big. Orion, another great hunter. That names suits you."

"Oh joy! I was hoping that would be resolved," Manheim laughed. "The fate of the world on the name of a no good cat."

Everyone but Boris gave him a withering glare. The wizard threw up his hands, realizing belatedly that he was in a group of cat lovers. To be accurate though, Lorinda loved all animals. That was just a technicality, for her real disgust was for how he treated Kirann.

The group continued on, now with a tiny presences that rode on Kirann's shoulder. Occasionally the little cat would meow and he'd present it with a field ration he had, mostly dried meat. He petted the cat, and even got it comfortable enough to lay on its back, during a midday rest. After that, the argument of boy or girl was settled.

Little Orion decided to jump from Kirann's shoulder to Raven's, and the little cat rubbed up against her neck. After a while, he jumped back to the monk's and sat perched there. By the time Altamar, the cat was sleeping in the little papoose he had made for him. Fed and feeling safe, Orion had no cares in the world.

Captain Reynolds though, found the sight funny. Here was this adventurer, that had led a band to destroy a horde of bandits, and a cat hung around his neck. Then again, this particular monk had always been a bit of a mystery. This was just another small part of it.

"Your new friend looks fierce," Captain Reynolds laughed.

Kirann nodded, "Best mouser in the whole country."

"How was the hunt?" The captain turned to more pressing matters.

The monk replied back, "Three bandit captains dead, and more bandits as well. We have proof of their defeat."

The guard captain couldn't help but laugh, "You do realize by now that Lord Wallace would probably believe you even without them. Your group has been a godsend to our trade. With the roads so clear, he's so happy, he might just knight you!"

"Shining armor is more Walton's thing," Kirann said with a smile. "I'll take a simple reward. The rest can go to my friends or to the less fortunate."

Reynolds knew that would be what he would say, "Well check in with the court wizard. Bruce is dying to see if you found any artifacts or magic on those bandits."

Kirann promised to check in with the wizard after talking with Lord Wallace. Captain Reynolds was close, Lord Wallace did name them, "Friends of Altamar" and set up a ceremony to give them a key to the city. The monk took it in stride, though he would have been happier to forgo all of it. However, Lord Wallace suckered him in, saying it would make the citizens' day to see him and the rest of the Challengers.

Lord Wallace also paid them a little extra for taking care of the bandit leaders. This made Boris and Manheim especially happy. Walton was surprised when three members of his order showed up to also congratulate him. The only two that really didn't have people fawning over them, were Val and Raven.

Lorinda somehow disappeared, making the rogue very jealous at how quickly she melded into the shadows. Luckily for them, Robert pulled the group to his tower. The cover was to go over the magical artifact they had recovered, the one that had spawned the demon ogre. Surprisingly, that was where Lorinda had ran off too. She sheepishly waved at her companions.

"Well, I better get to divining things, before Lord Wallace thinks I absconded off with you!" the wizard chuckled. "Now tell me, you really fought a demon ogre?"

"Indeed," Walton answered. "It was a fierce battle I was told. Val and I got the three bandit leaders."

The wizard paused, "That is rather impressive. Just the two of you against three. I would imagine that you don't lead a band of cutthroats by being weak."

"I'd like to know where they got that rod," Raven said. "Not that I don't think they could have something like that, but it just doesn't feel right."

"Well, you may be onto something there," Robert replied, and spouted off a series of arcane words. "This artifact has specific signature about it. I'd say an archwizard created it, or at least one more powerful than I."

Orion woke up and began purring in Kirann's ear. He scratched the cat on the head, and the cat perched back up on the monk's shoulder. He was curious about all the lights and magic floating about the big people.

"Here we go! Looks like the wizard left a signature deep in the magic," Bruce said. "Archwizard Archibald, that is who created this rod. Very well made too, but I don't think this was sold. The magic surrounding it is different. I'd say this was given or stolen."

"How does that help us?" Walton asked.

The wizard shook his head, "Not sure. Let's see what else you got there."

An hour later Val had a new set of leather armor, that gave her magical protection. Manheim received more spells for his book and a wand of missiles. Boris found a magical axe to replace his old hatchet. Raven took some old books nobody else was interested in, and Kirann received a magical bag.

Bruce pulled him over to the side, "Now this bag is different than the other things. The bandit leader that owned this, had made it into something like a sanctuary. However, I had to do a little cleaning. You wouldn't have liked how it was originally set up, whomever had that bag before was one sick puppy."

"I'm not sure I want to know," Kirann looked at the bag like it had grown legs.

Bruce reassured the monk, "Like I said, I had to make some changes. Inside you'll find a mansion built into a plane outside our existence. The manor is staffed by several beings, not celestial, divine or fiendish. They can take on any form you request or need. That being said, how they appear to me, will be much different than they do to you."

"That's interesting," Kirann. "I can think of some ideas of how to use it. What else should I know."

"I changed the magic to respond to you," the wizard explained. "When you open it, to you a door will appear wherever you are. Only those you invite in will be allowed, and any who wish you harm will be expelled immediately. Time is slower there too. A full rest there, will be a short rest here. The original maker of this also imbued it with healing magics, which will help speed your recovery."

"That could definitely be helpful," Kirann nodded. "What do I owe you for this?"

"Nothing," Bruce answered. "This was an interesting challenge. It was quite refreshing to use my skills for something other than protecting my lord's throne. Now, one last bit of advice, take it easy on the beings in there. Like I said, the last owner would have made a demon blush."

"That bad?" the monk felt his heart drop.

"Worry not, I have explained to them that you are very different," Bruce explained. "I told them you were a just and good man. Between you and me, your wizard friend would have been a bad choice for this gift. Even to a fellow wizard, he seems to be more inclined for people to fawn over him, than do right by them."

"He has promise," Kirann said. "I will protect and take care of them."

The wizard gave him an honest smile, "That's why I wanted you to have it. Now, I think I've kept you away from Lord Wallace enough." Then addressing the whole group, "Now, go and enjoy your rewards heroes. Come see me again when you have more artifacts to look at."

The rest of the day and night was spent in celebratory dinners and parties. Many of which Kirann looked urgently for a way to flee from. It was nice to be well fed, but the overabundance thrown at him, caused him grief. A life like this was tempting, but not for him. There still mysteries out there he wanted to see, and a long time before he could settle down or grow old.

The next day their adventure continued. Stumbling into Altamar was a badly beaten duo. A teen boy and girl, barely holding each other up and covered with blood and bruised from heavy beatings. They were dressed in rags, barefoot and shivered in the cool morning air. They boy had one eye completely closed, and the girl hobbled on a bad leg. Along their backs were several lacerations from a severe whipping.

Captain Reynolds was brought to them, after the local healers had done their best to attend to their injuries. Lord Wallace was paying for the materials used to fix them up. The soiled clothing and bedding that was being thrown out, made the good captain take a step back. There had to be more blood that had bled out of those teens, then could ever be in a person. Yet, the healers advised they still lived. Needed rest, but would be relatively fine.

However, both children would not sleep, and fought till the captain was called for. He hurried over, curious what was so important. His thoughts went to his sisters and brothers, back when they were younger. Had joined the guard to keep them safe, and in those teens he saw them.

"I'm Captain Reynolds," the good captain said, his voice low and soft. "What is it that you needed to tell me."

"For the Challengers," the boy rasped.

The girl in another bed carried on the thought, "They call for them… Came in the night, took everyone."

"We escaped, but they found us," the boy said.

The girl cried, "Told us we'd have just enough life to get here and deliver the message."

"That we would never rest," the boy gasped. "That one day they'd return for us."

Captain Reynolds put a comforting hand on them, one at a time as he spoke, "Rest now. You are safe and nobody is coming for you anytime soon. I'll deliver the message to the Challengers."

With that the teens fell into the blessed arms of sleep. Captain Reynolds stayed for a few moments, to watch over them, before he left. Immediately he went to Lord Wallace and sent for the Challengers. They arrived soon after, with only the wizard looking put upon by the sudden summons.

Captain Reynolds explained what the teens had said. He brought out a note found on the teens. It showed a town name, one that didn't show up on Wallace's maps. However, one of the other towns on the map did, Gutherton. It was to the northeast, about two days ride. From the crude map, the unknown town was about a half a day south of there.

"Friends, you have done wonders for our people here and the roads have never been safer," Lord Wallace said. "I must ask of you to look into this, to see what threat there is to Altamar."

"There is the matter of your name on the lips of those children," Captain Wallace put in. "I'm sure you're curious as to who is trying to draw you out."

Kirann nodded, "Yes. We will find out."

Lord Wallace looked at his captain and back again at the adventurers. They had learned how the monk talked, but there were times like this, that he stilled confused them. Thankfully Walton was there to interject.

"I believe what he means, is that it would be our pleasure and honor to look into this for you," the paladin explained. "We will get to the bottom of this and find out why our name was on those childrens' lips."

"Thank you honored holy knight," Lord Wallace said.

The Challengers made preparations to leave and by noon they were already on the road heading to east. They all road in the cart, with Lorinda only occasionally leaving to scout ahead. Her wolf form was seen darting in and out of the tall grass, before coming back to relax in the wagon cart. Up ahead lay a new challenge for them.


	10. Chapter 10

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part X

The heroes traveled through the countryside, their wagon plodding along. Led by the two work horses, it wasn't fast, but constant. The bumps and loose rocks of the road rocked the travelers back and forth. After a while it became almost comforting, with everyone relaxing as the ride continued.

The group camped in a hillside clearing, where they could see the surrounding countryside. Camp was set, and a roaring fire soon flickered to life. They fell back on their roles, and soon a dinner was made by fireside. It was while they group watched the sun fall below the horizon, that Kirann pulled Val off to the side.

"Whatcha want, Boss?" Val asked, looking at the bag Kirann pulled from his belt.

He smiled at the nickname, "Just Kirann. This bag came from those bandits we fought. Lord Wallace's wizard says it's special, and I'd like you to help me look it over."

"Okay, what do we have to do?" she asked, knowing there was usually a trick to these things.

Kirann opened the bag, "He said it was attuned to me now."

As he undid the straps on the bag, a luminous door appeared, complete with push latch on the door handle. The monk pressed in on the button and opened the door. From the side, the luminous door was the width of a standard door frame. However, looking inside the now opened door, a voluminous receiving room was beyond the portal.

The monk stepped through and saw the room was even bigger than he realized. It stretched on to several wings, with the receiving room being the center of it all. Winding stairways led up to a second level, and more traditional ones led to a third floor. The manor was even bigger than Kirann could have imagined, and more than he knew what to do with.

"By the way," he said to Val. "I invite you in."

The Half-Elf rogue stepped on through, and her eyes became big as saucers. Counterintuitively, she wrapped her arms around herself, becoming smaller in the grand open room. Kirann stifled a laugh, and she became conscious of what she had done. Still she couldn't bring herself to unwrap herself. This was one of those places that she didn't feel comfortable in, it was too open for her liking.

"It is very nice," she managed.

The monk laughed, "Glad I'm not the only one overwhelmed."

"Excuse me, Master," a very prim and proper voice rang out, echoing over the area. "welcome home."

Before him was a very tall Elf, just a few inches shorter than he was. The Elf man had long silver hair slicked back. Dressed in a very formal three piece suit, complete with dress shirt and cummerbund. His eyes were colored a light steel blue, and his hands were weathered. Looking as if he was past middle age, at least by Human standards, the being evoked wisdom and purpose. The stereotypical butler stood before them.

"I am Kirann, what should we call you?" Kirann bowed to this newcomer.

"Whatever you wish," the butler said.

Val looked puzzled, however Kirann asked, "A friend told me that you aren't spirits or something else. Don't you have a name?"

"The previous master called us many names, but to me the words were never kind," the butler responded, in the same even tone as when he had started.

Val sucked in her breath, "That's horrible! Everyone has a name. What did they call you when you were alive?"

"Are any of us truly alive?" the butler answered. "Master Kirann, should I call the others?"

"K," Val pulled the monk off to the side, "Jeeves here is a little off. What exactly did the wizard tell you?"

"Ah, Wizard Robertson," the butler interjected. "He was agreeable. He explained that you can make this little sanctuary to your liking. Already, I believe you will find there is a dojo in the west wing."

"Did you just create this?" Kirann was very curious, and definitely wanted to see this dojo.

The butler nodded, "Yes Sir. The longer you stay here, the more you think about your desires, the more the house will accommodate you. Now, shall I call the rest of your staff?"

The monk held out his hand to stop the butler, "Hold on just a moment. My companion is right, you need a name. If you were to choose, what would be your name?"

"She called me, Jeeves," the butler said. "What does that mean?"

"Sorry, it's just a name," Val explained, looking very sheepish.

Kirann added, "Most lords seem to have a manservant named, Jeeves."

The butler nodded, "I think that is rather fitting. You may call me, Jeeves, then."

"Excellent, Jeeves. Why don't you introduce us to the others and show us around the place," Kirann motioned for the butler to take the lead.

Back at the camp, Raven watched over the others. With the monk and rogue gone, Manheim was complaining. Why, she didn't know. All the chores had been done, so he wasn't having to do anything extra. Not that he had moved from his seat to do more than study his spell book. She knew that was how a wizard prepared, memorizing spells to use later. She just wished he'd do more work around camp.

Boris at least did his share, even if he was three sheets to the wind at that point. Lorinda was off on patrol, Raven could see her wolf ears popping up from time to time. That left Manheim, who was cleaning his armor. She, meanwhile, was deep in thought. Her patron was silent, which usually meant he was satisfied. That worried her.

After spending time with these people, and getting to know them, she wasn't feeling great. With the exception of two, all of these people had become like a family to her. Lorinda still didn't trust her completely, but still made her feel welcomed, like part of the group. Val was like the sister she never had, with them sharing a secret. Walton was like a big brother, but she had to wonder if he would still be, if he knew what she really was.

Then there was Kirann. Before she could finish that thought, she heard a snap. Pulling her Khopesh out, her instincts went into full alert. There out in the forest was something, the itch on her skin meant it wasn't of the natural world. Her time as a warlock had deepened her connection to the patron, and to the pact had given her increased senses.

A wolf erupted out of the forest, and Raven had to hold her arm. Lorinda finished her transformation. From her back, she pulled her double bladed staff out and motioned for the others to come. Walton was quick to her side, Boris stumbled over and Manheim grumbled his dissatisfaction.

"We have company!" Lorinda exclaimed just as a tiny green body flew at her.

She thrust out, and the goblin was impaled on her weapon. Another came and this time it was Raven's Eldritch blast that obliterated the tiny thing. But that was the last of the good news, as a whole lot more came running up. The group barely had time as more of the little bodies ran towards them.

A full group of ten were in front of them, another five were coming up on both flanks. That was bad enough, but then they heard movement from the back, and saw another ten coming up from behind. They were surrounded, and she had to wonder who hadn't seen such a large group sneaking up on them.

"This isn't good," Raven grit her teeth. "Of course Val and Kirann would be gone."

"Can't count on them," Manheim growled.

"Not his fault!" Walton swung his blade, bisecting another goblin. "Do you know anyway of getting a message to him?"

"No! I'm a wizard not a courier service," Manheim said as he swatted one goblin in the jaw, before Raven blasted it.

Lorinda sent out an entangling spell, that stopped the ten coming from behind. Meanwhile, Walton took a slash from a goblin blade and blood flowed down his back. Boris was there, and split the goblin's skull in two. Of the two, the Dwarf was still in his armor, basically living in it all the time.

"Well we're not going to last long like this. Outnumbered, we'll soon be dead!" Lorinda stated. "Any ideas?"

"Manheim, use your fireball spell on those entangled. Do you have the lightning bolt spell yet?" Raven exploded two more goblins in succession. "What about you, Lorinda?"

"I can try," Lorinda explained. "I'll need you all to keep them off of me."

Manheim rolled his eyes, "Little druid, your powers are no match to the arcane. Keep them busy."

The wizard blasted out a fireball, and the ten goblins shrieked, but only three fell. The remainder hurried towards him, their screams of agony mixed with hatred. However, they all fell when Lorinda's lightning blast finished them off. The wizard looked surprised at the druid, who was already incanting another spell. This time a flame column hit the ones coming from the left.

Without complaint, Manheim threw another fireball at the group on the right. Unfortunately, this time only a few dropped. That was when he saw more coming to replace them. The wizard cursed under his breath, and threw another spell out. More fell, but it seemed that more goblins came to replace them.

"I'm not sure how much longer we can hold on," Walton said.

Several cuts ran across his body. Blood flowed freely down, and he felt his strength flagging. Lorinda cast a quick healing spell, and some of the wounds closed. A bit of his strength came back, but they were still too few. Which couldn't be more apparent when a goblin tackled the Elf druid.

She fell, unable to swing her weapon. Luckily a Khopesh hit the goblin and it exploded as Raven's Eldritch blast traveled through the weapon. The warlock pulled her back up, and Lorinda gave a small nod of thanks. A grateful look was in her eyes. Sher returned the favor, when she used her staff blade to impale another incoming goblin.

"We need to retreat!" Lorinda called out. "Can you pick up that sack?"

Raven tried, but had to dodge and incoming goblin. She slashed it, and the green tiny monster fell. Before she could try again, another replaced it. More and more the goblins kept coming. The only way they were going to survive was to retreat, but she didn't want to leave Kirann and Val. They'd come out of the bag to be overwhelmed.

"Wish they'd come out!" Walton said, his breathing was labored now.

Inside Kirann and Val were finishing up with their tour. Jeeves had shown them through the multitudes of rooms, Kirann had counted at least thirty rooms. This didn't include the kitchen, dining room, ballroom, and yes, the dojo. He also introduced them to the maids, cooks, and other servants abounded. At least eight that he had seen, and Jeeves mentioned more would show up as more rooms were added.

The people ran the gambit of Dwarves, Gnomes, Elves, Humans and more. One such ran up to him and immediately fell to her knees. She was a young Elf, looking to be the age of a human teenager. She profusely started to apologize, and it took Kirann lifted her up, to make her stop. Yet, she would not meet his eyes.

"Milord, your great magnificence, exemplar of human kind.." she was automatically saying when he stopped her.

Kirann gently said, "Skip all that nonsense. My name is Kirann, and that is what you may call me. Now speak."

"Sorry, milord," the young Elf said, instantly shrinking back at her faux pas. "Your friends they are in trouble."

"What do you mean?" he looked around.

The young Elf woman looked small, "Your companions, they are being attacked by goblins."

"Okay, thank you," Kirann looked up at Val. "We need to get back."

The rogue was already halfway down the stairs when the monk turned back to the young elf, "You did good. You are now over watching the outside. What is your name?"

"My name is, Loralei, but the old master called me.." the young Elf started.

Kirann interrupted, but gave her a beaming smile, "Loralei, thank you. Jeeves, I'll return. Watch over them, please"

"That is my duty, sir," Jeeves reminded the monk. "However, thank you for your kindness."

Kirann and Val stepped out of the manor's door, the rogue with her dual swords out at the ready. There was chaos all around as spells and blades flashed in the evening air. Both of them sprang into action, Val with her blades and Kirann with flames erupting from his fists. The goblins didn't know what hit them.

Raven was losing hope when the monk and rogue suddenly appeared, and battle ready. Val lit into the nearest set of goblins, like a whirling dervish of steel. Flames wrapped around Kirann's fist and the goblins ran from his lethal blows. The others morale returned, and they chased the goblins off.

When the last goblin fled, the Challengers took stock of the carnage around them. Goblin bodies laid everywhere, in various states and all were dead. Just to be sure, Boris and Walton stabbed each one. Lorinda tended to the wounds the group suffered, most being on Walton. Without his armor, he had taken more of the brunt than Boris did.

Remembering what Robert had said, the monk pulled Walton and Raven into his new manor. Boris and Lorinda kept watch, while the three rested. Val took a more proactive approach, scouting out the surrounding woods. She wanted to find to find out where the goblins came from, and hopefully keep another attack from happening.

She soon found the goblins' warren. Marked on the map, she went back to the group. By that time Lorinda and Walton were coming back out, looking surprisingly refreshed. Their wounds were completely healed, with Walton looking fit as a fiddle. Kirann took the rest in. By the time morning came, the whole group was back to fighting shape.

Manheim had complained about the size of the manor, even as the monk thought it far too big. There were other general complaints, mostly about the staff. As usual at this point, Kirann ignored all the criticisms. Thankfully Jeeves found Manheim a room, with it being sound proofed. That would be great later, as they had learned Manheim had a tendency to snore in camp.

Kirann made sure Loralei was thanked properly, as much as his spartan speech would allow. The glow that lit up her cheeks let him know he succeeded. He also noticed she was dressed in the leathers of a stable keep, but had a sword on her side. Jeeves explained that as his appointed watcher, she was also the first line of defense. The monk was about to ask how that would work, since someone needed his permission to enter. He decided it could wait till later.

The next day, the group broke camp and paid heed to where the goblin warren had been. Marked on the map, they went on to scout the warren out. No use leaving the goblins for the next band to be ambushed by. By midday they would be ready to attack, and the Challengers were ready for some payback.


	11. Chapter 11

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XI

The goblins snapped at each other. Some threw rocks at goblins across from them. Others launched onto the weaker ones, biting and scratching them into submission. The warren was a haphazard site of avarice and violence. Those that weren't assaulting other for food and other needs, were torturing poor creatures captured earlier in the day. These were not nice creatures.

Their yipping and high pitched screams scratched at the ears, like nails on a chalkboard. Their pointy, needle like teeth ripped pieces of rotting flesh off. Their dirty, talon hands dripped ichor. All the while they danced on fractured bones of previous kills, unmindful of the difference between animal and reasoning being. None noticed what was happening outside.

The one that could be called the leader, sat on a pile of broken things and bones. His throne, and beside the throne were the female goblins of the warren. He was taller than the rest, a little wider, and scarred by multiple battles. His long nose was missing several inches, the casualty of a fight long ago. Still, he ruled and his word was the law around here.

With numbers of at least fifty goblins, his was a small warren. There had been more, but many had lost their lives last night against the camped heroes. The goblin leader had thought the raid was going well, till the flaming man and the rogue appeared out of a floating door. Things like usually meant powerful magic, more powerful than the wizard he had seen. After that, he had decided to pull back.

It would be several months before he could build up again, but that wasn't too much of a concern. Most of the people that came through here weren't trained fighters, normally easy pickings. When there weren't any travelers, they subsisted off the animals surrounding area. Besides, it would be fun rebuilding their numbers. It meant a lot of time with the female goblins, after all.

Then came bright light, unbearable bright light. The goblin leader screeched and clawed at his eyes as the bright sun like light blinded him. The other goblins yelled out in pain, the unbearable light burning their corneas. In the center of this was a man in functional robes, his blue eyes glowed golden behind the irises. The light cantrip continued to burn bright, and the goblins turned away in horror.

"We have a problem, goblins," the man said. "You prey upon the travelers and that must stop."

"You no boss us, I am boss," the Goblin leader sneered.

Kirann smiled, "I am giving you a chance to fix things, be better than you were before."

"You think you big hero," the goblin leader snarled. "I am master goblin, tear you apart. That is what we will do to you."

The monk thrust his fist out and a sun beam hit the leader in the middle of the chest, "I chose poorly."

The goblin leader fell to the groun, a burning hole searing through his chest. The goblin stood up, only to find a blast of Eldritch energy taking most of his face off. As the goblin leader fell, he saw the others behind the monk. The ones who had been covered up by the light cantrip. A magic missile finished him off, but not before he saw a pair of short swords hew through one of his guards.

A pair of goblins rushed Val, only to be knocked away by a staff blade. Lorinda smiled as she saw the hideous creatures hit the nearby wall. She shot out her hand and cast entangle, covering the little creepy things in thick vines. She finished them off, even as Val took the head off of another.

Behind her Manheim cast a fireball spell down one of the tunnels. He had wanted to lead with that, but Kirann had other ideas. Something down that hall was very flammable, as the whole thing caught fire. After the initial blast of fire and force, which had obliterated many goblins, the flames leapt up to cut off the whole tunnel.

The wizard had to jump back, to keep from having his robes catch fire. Stunned by the blast, he didn't see a goblin run up behind him. For his lack of focus, he received three clawed cuts on his shoulder. The cloth of his robe tearing, and Manheim cried out in terror. He swung out, only to be caught off balance.

Another goblin barreled into him, causing the wizard to fall back. Raven blasted the first goblin before it could leap upon him. The second was on Manheim's chest, a sharp, nasty looking dagger headed straight for his heart. The Khopesh ended that goblin, severing its head from its body. The dangerous dagger fell harmlessly to the floor.

She moved on, as Boris gleefully jumped past, burying his axe into a goblin skull. Walton helped the mage up, his sword resting in his off hand. The wizard looked put out, but the paladin didn't see it. Instead he thrust his blade into an oncoming enemy, leaving the wizard behind. Still, Manheim had more work to do. Kirann had been very specific.

The wizard threw more fireballs down the other tunnels, all but one caught fire just like the first. This time, he was far enough back that the backdraft didn't catch him like the first time. What he didn't expect was the flaming goblins that burst form those tunnels. They died practically as they stumbled out, but that didn't make Manheim feel any better. He preferred plans where he wasn't so close to the action.

Kirann had several scrapes on his arms and legs. In these cramped quarters, there wasn't a lot of room to move around. These rooms were built more for goblins, but they had enough space for fighting. That was why he had Manheim flame the tunnels. They would create choke points, places where the goblins could siphon them through. As such, they were off guard and afraid.

Anytime a goblin attempted to rally the others, one of the Challengers would take them out. Kirann sent out a searing flame form his palms, setting another three goblins on fire. Another came at him with a spear. He parried the stab, and sent the goblin flying. He called out to Raven, and her Eldritch Blast obliterated the tiny evil thing. Another fell to the ground, cut down by Lorinda's natural magic.

Soon the room was quiet, the sounds of battle had faded. The Challengers checked themselves, taking stock of their wounds. Seeing that their injuries were minor, and after tending to them, they moved onto the next part of the warren. There they found more goblins, and more fell to them.

The little greenish bodies were quickly turned into burned masses, others fell broken to the ground. The heroes moved onward, only fighting those goblins that rushed forward to attack them. Those that cowered in fear or ran off, the Challengers let go. They were here for the dangerous ones. Those that did escape spread the legend of the burning monk and his band of goblin killers.

By the time for supper, the whole warren had been cleared. The heroes left it, and set up camp nearby. While they did, Lorinda called upon nature to obliterate the warren. Tunnels and earthen walls crumbled, leaving bones and goblin bodies to be buried underneath. With no way to find the names of those the bones belonged to, there wasn't going to be a way to return them to loved ones. Lorinda did say a prayer to the Elven gods, and even some of the other races' gods, to help those people find peace.

"The next time you decided to do something so foolhardy, leave me out!" Manheim demanded. "I hate those things."

"The plan worked, didn't it?" Walton said. He was cleaning his sword, wiping goblin gore off of it.

"Aye ye lily livered wizard, that was a blast!" Boris said, pulling a canteen that smelled of something highly alcoholic. "Proud of our little dancing boy. I was worried all our quests would be skulking around."

"Quiet," Kirann said. "Someone approaches."

The group fell into hushed silence. Weapons were at the ready, and Kirann stood in front of the fire. His fists were on fire, ready to be used if necessary. Lorinda readied one of her last spells of the day, she'd need to definitely rest before casting again. Manheim cursed even as he looked through his book for a good spell to use.

Out form the darkness stumbled a cloaked figure. Her gait was uneven, and she moved as if on wooden legs. The cloak was wrapped around her, as if cold or trying to hide herself. Down to one leg she fell, and tried to lift herself again, only to fall to both knees. She lurched forward, clearly exhausted.

Kirann pulled the fire back into his hands, extinguishing them. Running forward, he caught the cloaked woman. She looked up, not meaning to, but unused to what was happening. The kind monk pulled her up, and kept her close. He saw eyes, and her hair, before he pulled the cloak's hood down over her face. The others didn't need to see her just yet, first was to see to this traveler.

"Raven, can you bring her some food? Lorinda, can you make her a bedroll? Val, some water if you please," Kirann called out to his team. "Manheim, Boris, can you scout around for anyone that would have followed her?"

"Sure, send out the wizard instead of the druid or rogue," Manheim complained, even as Boris pulled him along. "It's not like they would be much better at this!"

"Shut it, wizard! We might see something that needs a killin'!" Boris excitedly yelled.

As they left, Kirann pulled the Walton off to the side, "Do you have any healing spells left?"

"Just one," the paladin said.

Kirann held up his hand, "Hold on, let's see what is going on first."

The monk pulled the cloaked figure along, having her sit by the fire. The form started to shake. He pulled the figure's hood back briefly, only to see a Drow face crying beneath the hood. Kirann pulled the hood back down as his friends came back with food and water. Handing them to the Drow, he felt her shudder.

The tears still fell, but this time it was replaced by a small groan. The newcomer quickly took to the food and water, hungrily wolfing it down. She still kept her head down, not letting anyone else see her face. The others were worried, but the newcomer wouldn't face them. Soon, though she found the monk, and his gaze comforted her.

"Thank you," she said in a hoarse voice. "You are most kind."

"Our pleasure," Lorinda stated. "We must all watch out for each other on the road. What is your name?"

"Leilani, good Elf," the woman said. "I must be going."

Raven tried to put a hand on woman's shoulder, "Nonsense, you are welcome by our fire. You'll not find a finer group, now that Boris and Manheim are gone."

"While I appreciate the offer, most would not find my company restful," Leilani said. "Once I regain my strength, I'll be on my way."

Walton smiled, "Milady, it is not safe to travel these roads at night. Why, we just destroyed a goblins' nest just feet from here."

She turned to face him, one lock of silver hair escaping from her hood. Leilani quickly pulled it back in, but not fast enough that Walton didn't see it. With how quickly she had moved, made him think it was a trick of the light. Something though was not sitting well with him about their guest. Calling out to his god, he peered at her, searching for her alignment.

A beautiful golden blue light surrounded her. The light began to sputter and spin, forming a whirling pyre. The more she regained her strength, the stronger the light got, and the more her light began to react more like a wildfire in the body of woman. The only one of their party even remotely like her, was Kirann.

Where the stranger's light was wild, his was like a blazing furnace. His flames were ordered though, even as they were brighter. Both were blinding to the paladin's extra sight. They were connected to fire in some way. Kirann was an Aasimar Sunsoul monk, which explained his light. Walton could only guess that their new guest was something similar, possibly a sorcerer.

"You have the look of magic about you," Walton said.

Leilani's hood only moved slightly, "You used your sight on me, did you? Yes, I'm a sorceress."

"Not now, Walton," Kirann interjected. "Let her rest. The story will come when she is ready."

Leilani did rest, staying barely conscious. She kept an ear out for the group to turn on her. Others had done that in the past. Many of a goodly people had attempted to take her and her life, when her back was turned. This group seemed like a good bunch, but she couldn't afford to let her guard down. Unfortunately for her, exhaustion took over and she fell into a deep slumber.

When she awoke, the rest had gone off to their own bedrolls. Only the monk was still up. The two he had sent off had returned, but they were now snoring feet away. Silently she took off, knowing now was the time. There was no use overstaying her welcome, which would happen when they found out what she was. Not sure what game the monk was playing, but he hadn't let her secret out to the others.

"Going somewhere?" the voice of the monk came from in front of her.

Leilani nearly bounced off him, and she instantly called for her magic. He, however just seemed at east, as if this was a normal everyday occurrence to him. She didn't sense any magic about him, though there was some about the bag on his belt. He held no weapons, but that didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. His type had deadly hands and feet.

The drow quietly said, "You know this is for the best. Your friends won't be as accommodating as you have been."

"You'll never know till you try with them," Kirann explained to her. "Val and Raven will surprise you. Lorinda will listen, just don't corner her. Even Walton might understand."

Leilani perked up at that, "Why didn't you tell them? Why hide me? You know I'm a Drow."

"You weren't a threat to them or me," Kirann answered. "In a bad shape, you needed the rest."

"That doesn't address the Drow part," the sorceress kept at him. "My kind isn't known for being the best beings."

The monk surprised her, "We are more than our people. Individuals, we decide our path and fate. Some choose a path of service, some a path of solitude, and still others of balance."

"You are a strange one, monk," Leilani found herself smiling despite everything. "Thank you for the respite."

"Kirann, that is my name," the monk relayed to her. "When you are ready, look us up. Safe travels, friend."

"Safe travels to you too, Kirann," Leilani began to disappear into the night. "Thank your friends for me. I felt..,it was..look, I am not used to that."

Kirann waved, "Will do. See you later."


	12. Chapter 12

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XII

The Challengers continued on towards their destination. Many questions were asked about their guest, but Kirann just advised she had left in the early morning. Thanks to stopping to clear out the goblin warren, they were running a day behind. It was still worth it, as any future travelers would be safe.

Considering that they had no idea what the situation was like at their destination, a slight delay could be fortuitous. As they approached, Kirann had them pull the wagon over at the outskirts. They traveled around till they found a decrepit barn. Half of the group toured around it, checking out the structure. The other half stood watch, till they got the word.

Lorinda used her abilities to shore up barn, and reinforce the structure. Once done, they pulled their cart and horses into the barn. Tying up the horses, Val put the feed bags on while the others camouflaged the wagon. By the time they were done, unless really looking, nobody was going to see the barn was back in use.

On foot, the Challengers crept through the outskirts towards the heart of the town. They looked for people, and the "they" that the teens had said were looking for them. What caused them to be even more overly cautious, there was no activity. No bakeries with puffing smoke, nor any smithies with heat radiating off of them, nothing was running. None of the people you'd normally see walking about a town were about, and there was a distinct lack of children's voices.

Val and Lorinda scouted ahead. They found many houses empty, but had been lived in till the last week. Some of the houses still had food left out, as if the inhabitants were kidnapped before they could eat. Several animals roamed about, with more than one cat hiding as the two women came by. Some dogs, locked up in pens whined, mostly starved and without water.

Though fearing that releasing the dogs might tip off whoever was waiting on them, the two women thought it would be far crueler not to. They had some water poured in bowls, and found some jerky for the dogs to eat on. Once released the dogs alternated between grateful slobbery licks and wolfing down the food and water.

After they were done, Lorinda took the canines back to the barn. Val, stuck around, but took shelter in the local church steeple. From high up she could see most of the town, and even could make out where the rest of the party was. Part of that is because she knew where to look. The more she waited though, the more the town creeped her out.

Where one expected life, there was stillness. The town was unnaturally silent, and the lingering effect made a shiver go up her spine. Val touched the handles of her short swords, needing to know they were there. She jumped as Lorinda returned, with the rest of the group.

"What do we have Val?" Kirann asked.

The rogue cut him a dirty look, "Besides my skeleton and skin in two different places, not a lot. It is very, very quiet."

"Entirely took quiet," Lorinda interjected. "The dogs recognized pig men, that smelled like hogs."

"Sounds like Orcs," Kirann said.

The wizard of course had to jump in, "Ooh pig men, must be Orcs. It doesn't take a genius to figure that out."

"Even with that, where are they holding everyone?" Walton asked. "This just feels wrong, I can sense a great evil here."

"You speak truly, there is something vastly unnatural permeating all around us," Lorinda agreed.

Boris was rubbing his hands in glee, "We are in for a great fight then! Orcs, orcs and more orcs!"

"Well the Dwarf is happy," Val sighed.

She wasn't feeling his same joy at the possibility of battle. The town was causing her no end to unease. Her senses told her to run, never look back and get out of dodge while the getting was good. It was her survival instinct kicking in. However, she couldn't just leave now. There were people that might need help. That being said, if Kirann's plan was to get the people our and run like hell, she'd be okay with that.

Together again, the Challengers made their way through the deserted town. Still no sign of the people, nor were there signs of them violently being taken. In fact, it looked like they had all stopped what they were doing and walked away from their homes and businesses. Almost like they had left on their own free will, but Kirann had a feeling that wasn't the case.

A lead popped up, as Lorinda followed the tracks of several of the townspeople. They led to the mines on the northern side of the town. These mines were dug into the ground, and weren't like the mines you would find dug into mountains. Boris though looked really happy at seeing the series of mines. He did complain they were second rate, next to Dwarven ones.

The Challengers crept up on the mines and this is when the sounds of people washed over them. Finally, the group felt their breaths release, unaware they had been holding them in. Still, this didn't mean they were ready to storm on in. They had to reconnoiter a bit more and see what they were up against it.

Lorinda found the Orcs, numbering about thirty and more trained than most you would find. They had set up watches, their weapons were maintained and each wore leather armor. It wasn't the best armor, but better than the pieced together collections most Orcs wore. They also moved in formations, and were even training.

The druid was about to leave when she overheard the Orcs talking. She decided to get closer, as any intelligence she could bring back, would help Kirann plan. Maybe there was a way to free the people, or get them out without having to fight the Orcs. Normally she wouldn't mind fighting them, but these were not acting normally.

"The Boss says the heroes should have arrived," one of the Orcs complained. "Did Meatshield see them yesterday?"

Another Orc, possibly female, but hard to tell answered, "No, Gong, the ambush never happened. Remember you blockhead? That is why the Boss send out a patrol along the road."

"Quiet you two! The Boss will hear you," another Orc shushed them. "They will come, and then the Boss will kill them. We have the people here, so they will come."

The female Orc shook her head, "Still would like to have eaten a couple. Humans make good meat."

Gong, the first Orc that had spoken slapped her hard, "You forget, the Boss said to leave them be. He paid Pied Piper to lure them here."

"Quiet you fools! I feel eyes on us," the third Orc turned around looking at the surround area.

The three called and five more joined them, each moving out in a search pattern. Lorinda had already left, once she had learned about the pied piper. Rushing back to the group, she was careful. There was no use running into an Orcish patrol, and being caught alone. The information she had was too important, and she briefly thought of calling a nature friend, thinking better of it.

By the time she reached the rest of the group, her nerves had yet to settle. Whomever this boss was, they were causing Orcs to act contrary to their nature. Organized and ready, this wasn't like their other raids. Worse, the party was expected and had only staved off an ambush, by stopping to clear a goblin warren. She relayed this information to them, watching Manheim's color drain as he listened.

Kirann was petting Orion while he listened. When Lorinda came to the end, he opened the bag and let the cat go back into his manor. Awaiting on the other side, was Jeeves, who took the cat to feed and tend to. He was happy that he had worked with Jeeves on a new security function. If something happened to him, or it was dropped by him, the bag would teleport back to the wizard in Altamar.

"So, this isn't good," Kirann said. "It could still work in our favor."

"What's the plan?" Val asked.

The monk smiled, "More information about the Pied Pier is needed, and how to break his hold over the people."

Walton thought for a moment, "If we take out one of their patrols, they might try to reinforce it. We could make them come to one place, while we hit another."

"I wonder if you could make apparitions of us?" Kirann asked Manheim. "They'd pull more if they saw us."

"Not happening, I can make duplicates of me," the wizard replied. "Before you ask, I'm not using it to draw them off."

Kirann shook his head, "They won't pull off enough Orcs for just one of us. They wanted the whole party. I think we have a plan."

That evening, at twilight, they struck. Orcs can see in the light, and can see well in the dark. However, twilight played havoc, as it was too light to switch to their night vision, and too dark to rely on regular sight alone. These Orcs were on their way back to the caves, bored at more pointless patrolling. It wasn't like they were even allowed to pillage, as all the townspeople were already in the caves. If they were lucky, the Boss would allow them to have some fun with the villagers though.

One heard the call of an owl. He raised his bow, thinking to get the wide eyed bird. An odd burning sensation filled his belly, and the Orc looked down to see snarling Half-Elf with two short swords. She eviscerated the Orc and he got off one croak before he fell over. The rest of his group, six remaining, turned. One noticed a glint off gleaming armor, and got a primitive shield up just in time to be obliterated by a great sword. Another roared in defiance, only to trip over some vines strewn about. That one never got back up, a blade buried itself in the Orc's neck.

The leader of the Orcs called out to reform, and they formed a circle. The paladin had finished off his Orc, which meant that four remained. He called them to form a line and advance on the armored warrior. Val came up beside Walton, and Lorinda materialized behind them. The head Orc thought four against three were good odds.

At least till he and the other three were blown into the air. Fire and force exploded all around them. The leader died immediately, while another died upon hitting the ground. The other two were nearly dead, to which one Eldritch Blast and one Magic Missile finished off. However, the Orcs' war cries had been heard.

Another band immediately rushed to find the fight. Instead all they found are the remains of the patrol. They called for another, and another. By the time an hour passed, fifteen Orcs were out scouting for the heroes. That still left about twenty left. Still about a three to one battle, even if they were going in now. Those weren't good odds, especially since they had to save the villagers.

So, the party waited. As the search parties continued outward, Lorinda set markings onto paths. She funneled them away from the others, and where the Challengers were waiting. This next party put up more of a fight, but they fell too. Walton collected a couple of dents to his armor, and Boris had a laceration that needed to be closed. Still, most of the party were not wounded.

The next attempt didn't go so easily, as the Orcs kept two of their patrols together. Only by a quick wit and quicker reflexes, the Challengers were kept from a horrible battle. Just as they had escaped, more patrols converged on their position. Kirann ended up having to lead them back to the outskirts.

Still the excursion hadn't been a total loss, as they had dropped down the numbers they would have to face. He would have liked more information about this "Boss" and the "Pied Piper." For the moment, they would have to wait and see. Learn more throughout the night, and start again in the morning at dawn.

"Was it them?" the bodiless voice asked.

A large, scarred Orc answered, "Yes, Boss. They took out twelve of us. They shrunk off into the night. Afraid of the Stone Orcs, they are, and you made us strong."

"I gave you training, taught you the tactics of your enemies," Boss said. "You promised me an army, and I'll hold you to it. However, can you track these people?"

"I have Gong searching now, but their druid has hidden their tracks," the scarred Orc replied. "The Stone Orcs have a grand army waiting for you. We number more than the trees, and we have taken women from the surrounding area."

"You have done well then," Boss said. "What about the Pied Piper?"

A pale, man answered, "I have the townspeople under my thrall. They will tolerate any abuse the Orcs put them through."

"Very well, you have done well," Boss' voice seemed to warm. "If you can ensnare the Challengers, it'll make our next move easier. No matter what, you must either enslave or kill their leader, Kirann. That monk can not live, unless he serves us."

"He will join us or perish," the pale man said.

The voice left, leaving the scarred Orc to watch the pale man leave. The man had markings, darkened and etched into his skin. Pale skin was offset with dark eyes, and darkened bags under those eyes. Those eyes were doll like and black, as darkness had swallowed up the gateways to the soul. What made the scarred Orc uneasy though, were the skeletal wings that sprouted from the Pied Piper's back.


	13. Chapter 13

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XIII

The next day started off with a raid. The Orcs were busy at a campfire laughing at the poor creature they had caught. The little squirrel was on a crude spit, tied by its little furry paws to it. The terrified creature was chittering in absolute fear, as the porcine humanoids roared in hideous laughter.

The gathered Orcs felt secure, as three patrols were out looking for the heroes. Walking in a circular search pattern, they should have been able to see any group infiltrating the perimeter. So, these Orcs weren't worried. Their weapons were still by their sides, just not on their sides. That would be important, because it made the Orcs slow.

The campfire went out; flames there one moment, gone the next. The gathered Orcs looked confused, and bent closer to look at where the campfire was. The squirrel forgotten about, found itself free as vegetation destroyed makeshift spit, while entangling the Orcs. They looked up to see a smiling human, in simple robes. He waved as the world erupted into flame around them.

None of the Orcs got their weapons up, but those behind them were up on their feet. Roaring in challenge, these Orcs rushed towards the man. He threw out his hands, with a cone of flame erupting from them and enveloping the oncoming attackers. Three more Orcs came from a dugout hole, and yelled their own war cry.

Sadly for them, one fell immediately to a two handed sword. Another felt his entrails fall out, a blur of leather and hair, his only clue to the attacker. The third orc struck out at the rogue, who had taken out her mate. However, her strike went wide as a Dwarf broadsided her. The manic fighter chopped at her, and the female Orc couldn't put up a defense. Soon, she was a bloody mess.

More Orcs came running, five this time. Two came up behind the monk, looking to strike his backside. Three went after the Dwarf and the paladin. Kirann twisted, caught the axe of one Orc. With a strong elbow to the face, he made his attacker drop the axe. The monk caught it and twisted around to find the second Orc. He buried the axe head in that one, hitting the area between the neck and the shoulder.

Walton heard the Orc's screams of pain over the battle cry of the three facing him and Boris. He didn't have the time to take a good look, but from the corner of his eye, he saw. On the ground, one of Kirann's Orcs was rolling around on the ground in great pain. The other fell as a sun bolt hit him full in the face.

While Kirann's first attacker hit the ground, a magical missile hit the exposed back of an Orc going after Walton. The Orc next to him turned, only to kind a Khopesh slicing through his neck. The explosion of Eldritch energy took his head off, and that Orc knew no more. The last Orc was heading to flee, but fell as Boris' axe bit into the leg. That Orc died when Lorinda's blade staff severed necessary arteries and the spinal cord in one slash.

"Challengers, vanish!" Kirann called out.

Each of the heroes dispersed just as three patrols of Orcs came racing back to their camp. They found the eight bodies, but none of the heroes they had been looking for. The Pied Piper was right on their heels, and he stopped at the sight of the carnage. His skeletal wings stretched out, the feeling of another like him washed over. The Orcs though had looks of utter fear on their porcine faces.

The Pied Piper kicked some of the bodies. None of the eight were alive, their deaths had been quick and efficient. These weren't just some everyday adventurers, they had skill. He looked forward putting them under his spell, just thinking about all the carnage he could have them do. They had to replenish their numbers though. Down to twelve Orcs, that wouldn't be enough unless they forced the fight.

These adventurers were smart, picking off the group one by one. However, they were good, so that left the Pied Piper an idea. So far, it had been hit and run tactics, whittling down the Orcs. However, would they stand and fight if the villagers were in danger? He was willing to bet that they'd come out not the open for that. That was something he could do to draw them out, for that was the weakness of Good. Good cared about others.

The scarred Orc, the commander of the forces there, came up to the Pied Piper. He looked over the fallen with disdain. Those who had died were weak, and the weak weren't worthy of thinking of. Nor were the slow, as he had half a mind to take out the patrol leaders. They had missed the heroes, and as such now they were down more Orcs. Yes, there was a price for failure.

"Leave them, Grax," the Pied Piper said. "They fight an unusual foe."

The scarred Orc spit, "They failed. Let the beasts have them."

The pale man shrugged, "Terrible to waste even Orcs like that. Especially since I have a plan."

"Grax have plan too! However, Boss say to listen to your ideas," the scarred Orc turned to face him. "What do you have in mind?"

"Let's give the heroes a reason to come out," the Pied Piper said in a tone that would make a snake shudder. "Have two of your biggest Orcs prepare for a tribute. I'll pull some of the villagers out, let your champions have their way with them."

The Scarred Orc was curious now, "That will bring them out?"

The pale man nodded, "It'll be irresistible. Their leader will come to save them, and that is when we'll strike. Pull all your Orcs in, and have them wait in ambush."

"We will kill them? I like this plan!" Grax roared.

The Pied Piper shook his head, "They only die if we can't capture them, but their leader is to be brought to the Boss. If your people can keep them busy, my music should enthrall them."

The scarred Orc seemed to like that too, "I will get the Orcs ready. Boss was right that you are smart too."

Kirann watched over his group, letting them all rest after the raid earlier in the morning. The had taken out more Orcs, and his plan was working. Something in his gut though was causing him to worry. Their enemy was trained, had tactics, but their raid earlier should have shaken their morale. Instead Lorinda was reporting that they were on the move.

He mulled over what she had told him, and something told him that someone had reenergized the Orcs. They had been building crude stocks, for what reason he didn't know. Normally he'd say it was to punish the patrols that had missed his group. It was possible it was for the villagers, but they hadn't done anything like that yet. Well as far as he could tell, the real answers would be had after the rescue was complete.

The others looked good, rested and relaxed. It was the curse of leadership that he wasn't. Good leaders only relaxed after the job was done and their people safely home. His people weren't home, and with the enemy so close, definitely not safe. So, he went over his plan, looked for holes and what different outcomes might be.

Lorinda watched him mull over everything, almost being able to see the wheels turning in his head. She had faith in him, and that even now he was trying to think of any eventuality. He had one for an ambush, which is why she and Manheim had a series of blinding attacks memorized. If they tried to kill the villagers, they had an attack set up. The one unknown that was causing him the most grief, how the Pied Piper was controlling the villagers. Without that, he had no way to counteract that ability. She knew that was driving the monk to second guess everything.

"Kirann!" Val cried out as she came back to the camp. "They're moving the villagers, and it doesn't look good!"

"What's going on?" he asked, instantly his mind dropped all the plans and focused on her words.

The Half-Elf rogue looked flush, "I don't understand Orc, but I can understand tying up villagers and ripping their clothes off."

"They mean to draw us out," Manheim said. "Obviously we're not going to be stupid enough to let them!"

"What are you talking about?" Walton resisted the urge to throttle wizard. "Those are innocents, we can not leave them to be degraded by Evil!"

The wizard turned, arcane power already forming around his fingertips, "We also can't run in like frackin' idiots."

"He's right that they'll try to ambush us if we go," Lorinda said. "However, we can't let this happen. We can stop them."

"We will rescue the villagers," Kirann said. "First, we need to know if the Pied Piper is there. Second, we need to break the hold he has on them. Third, we need to hit the Orcs hard. All goes well, the villagers can flee while we lead the Orcs away."

"Oh, is that all?!" Manheim scoffed. "Here I thought moving heavens and earth was hard, but no, crazy monk's plan takes the cake!"

Val turned to him, "Do you have any better ideas?"

Manheim sputtered, but Kirann put a stop to it. Now was not the time for bickering, they needed to come up with a plan. More precisely, update their current one to better suit the current conditions. Less than two to one odds meant that they were in a much better position than before.

Calling them all over, Kirann laid out the plan, "Here is what we're going to do."

Two massive battle-scarred Orcs were stripped to their waists. In front of them were four villagers, tied to the stocks. Their expressions were one of unconcern, almost catatonic. They didn't react to the loud roars of the Orc champions. Unaware of their fate, thanks to the Pied Piper's hold over them.

Behind the two champions, were the remaining thirteen Orcs, ready for the ambush. Grax, the scarred Orc and leader, waited with them. Beside him Pied Piper waited on the heroes, and he knew they would come. They could not let innocents be harmed, not knowingly and he had made sure that they had seen.

The rogue was good, but the Pied Piper had run with rogues before. He had seen her path, and made sure she saw everything. All he had to do, was wait patiently. The heroes would fall into the trap, then they would be his. Sometimes it was good to match wits against a worthy opponent, too bad good always had the same fatal flaw. Hurt the "innocents" and they'd lose all reason, just to "save" them.

Out of nowhere a fireball hit near where the Orcs were hiding, throwing two through the air. They landed singed, but still alive. Before anyone could think, they sky darkened and the Pied Piper barely got out of the way of a lightning bolt. Grax lay convulsing on the ground, and one Orc was completely dead.

The champions rushed forward, one was met by Kirann. He threw a sun bolt right into its face, and half of melted away immediately. The Orc fell, not dead, but unable to fight. Boris Hit the second champion from behind, while that champion went after Walton in front of it. The Dwarf's axe took out the lower leg, and Walton's downward slice took off the jaw.

Grax made it to one knee and screamed for his warriors to attack. Twelve surviving Orcs rushed forward. Two fell instantly, one to twin short swords, the other to entangling weeds. Raven threw one of her blasts at the Orc in the center. However, she aimed at his legs, and was rewarded by tripping him up.

As that Orc fell, he took three more with him. The line splintered and Manheim tossed another fireball at the fallen Orcs. Most were able to dodge, but another two fell dead. The next in line of command began to bark orders, when a sun bolt hit straight to the Orc's chest. The would be leader fell with a gasp, the other Orcs were starting to lose heart.

That was when the Pied Piper pulled his ace card out. From his side, he pulled out an ornate pipe and pressed it to his lips. Notes poured forth, flying to take control of the enemy. Insidiously the melody floated around the area and through the sounds of battle. There they found their targets, and started to turn the tide

Manheim and Boris stopped, their weapons coming to a halt and Manheim's spell fell off his lips into a whisper. Both fell to a knee before rising again, a look of murder in their eyes. Lorinda cried out in pain, dropping her weapon and grabbing at her ears. Val, fell back, her ears killing her. Meanwhile the Orcs rushed forward, those that remained at least.

Raven heard the song of the Pied Piper, and for the first time in a long time, was grateful for her pact. Her patron made her immune, even if it made her feel like her skull was being split in two. She looked in horror as Kirann stopped and seemed to be under the spell. Already she could see the others falling to this song.

Instead, Kirann surprised her again. Feeling the music call to him, like a succubus in the night, he resisted. Centering himself, emptying all thoughts and emotions to just a small ball in the center of his chest. He focused on nothing but that, then moved outward. Next, he focused on breathing, then his pulsing blood. Each time he opened himself up to a bigger portion, going next to his arms and legs. Finally sure he was free of the song, he pulled his gifts to him and thrust out a sun bolt.

Val, was falling hard to the ground over and over again. She was screaming, but didn't realize the screeching sound was her own voice being driven raw. Then the pain was gone, and she lay on the ground crying. The pain in her head was unbearable, and nothing else seemed to drive her forward. She knew she should be getting up, but Val simply couldn't do that yet.

Walton was lost, floating down a musical river, drowning in it. He called out to his god, pleaded with Tyr to aid him. A golden light answered him, washing away the river of music and he felt himself falling. He fell for several minutes before he crashed, and he yelled in fright. Opening his eyes, Walton was back in his body, and just in time to be subdued by three ugly Orcs.

Manheim threw a magic missile attack at Lorinda. The attack hit near her, and caused her more pain. He aimed again when the ground at his feet exploded. Dirt scattered in front of him, and bits were blown into his eyes. Temporarily blind, Manheim's next attack went wild and harmlessly flew into the forest.

"Tie him up boys," Boris said. "The Boss wants him and the others. Wizard get the druid!"

The Pied Piper looked pleased as he continued to play. The fighter and the wizard were his. The paladin had been close, but it was only a matter of time. The druid was fighting him, and the blessing by her goddess was keeping him at bay for the moment. Still, she would fall, just as they always did. Then pain flashed across his hands and chest.

Kirann's sun bolt hit the Pied Piper, burning layers of skin off his hands and creating scorched skin in the center of his chest. The evil bard fell to the ground in agony, slapping his hands against the fire to put it out. This of course caused more burns to accumulate on his hands. He looked on with pure hatred to see the Aasimar monk responsible rushing to the druid.

"Get him you fools!" the Pied Piper screeched.

Grax hobbled after the monk, leading the remaining nine Orcs after him and the warlock. Manheim started forward along with Boris, ready to take out their old teammates, but were held back by the Pied Piper. They still had to keep the paladin secure, and nine against four would be more than enough. Especially with two incapacitated, which is why the Pied Piper didn't follow as well.

Kirann had Raven go for Val, while he rushed over to Lorinda. She was rocking herself, arms holding her sides, still obviously in great pain. The druid looked at him, pleading for the pain to stop. He couldn't help her here, so he gently picked her up. He grabbed her weapon as well, using it to steady both of them.

An Orc burst into view, and he thrust out with her blade staff. The Orc jumped back, but still found a blade sticking out of his chest. Kirann pulled the weapon back, leaving the porcine humanoid to bleed out. As he did, he saw Raven leading Val away. They retreated back towards their camp.

Halfway back, he had them take a turn and found a hiding place amongst the trees. There they waited for some time, before he was sure they had lost their pursuers. Then he left Raven to watch over Lorinda and Val. This next part was going to be dangerous, and he needed to be the one taking the risk.

Hours later, he returned and found them back to at least some form of coherence. Val was rubbing her head, cursing a storm, but at least coherent. Lorinda was in tears, her head buried in her hands. They would both be good, but they needed rest. He needed to rest, but they had to be taken care of first.

He opened up his bag, the doorway appearing, "Raven take them inside and rest."

"What about you?" she asked concerned, because he wasn't looking good either.

"I'll watch over you," he said.

She put her hand on his arm, "This wasn't your fault. Get some rest, because we need to go get our friends back."

Before he could argue, she pushed him into the door. Following Lorinda and Val in, she saw Kirann wasn't happy, but she knew she was right. The fact that Loralei was hovering over him seemed to confirm her suspicions. Jeeves led them all to rooms in the mansion, all but Raven and Kirann falling into their beds immediately.

She found him in the dining hall, looking deep in thought. She meant to leave before being noticed, but he waved her over. Sitting across from him, it became immediately clear he was blaming himself for their failure. She knew there wasn't a way he could have foreseen this, but as their de facto leader, he felt responsible for their safety.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

She didn't know how to answer, "I'm fine, my patron protected me."

"My training saved me," he said. "The technique is taught young, but mastered later."

"You couldn't foresee this, you know," Raven tried. "In hindsight it makes sense, based on the villagers' behavior."

Kirann's sad eyes turned up to her, "We lost three. We took out more, but those three."

"I know.. I just wish I knew what to say," she wanted to make him feel better, their lost comrades needed him to be his usual self. "Because of you, we got Val and Lorinda out."

"Because of you too," he reminded her. "I know up here," he pointed to his head, "that we did all we could." Next, he pointed to his heart, "Here, though, is where the real battle is."

"So, what now?" Raven asked, smiling because even as she asked, she saw his mind moving.

This time his reply was more like him, "We get our people back, we save the villagers and finish our mission."

"That sounds promising, how though, what's the plan?" she smiled despite herself and despite how tired she felt.

"Jeeves!" Kirann called.

The Elf steward of this mansion appeared next to him immediately, "Yes, Sir?"

"Do we have a library, possibly one that has books or lore on magical items?" he asked.

Jeeves barely moved, "I believe we do, Sir. The Librarian would know for sure. It's down the hall, second floor, east wing."

"Thank you, Jeeves," Kirann got up. "What is the librarian's name?"

The manservant shrugged, "I know not, Sir. You are the first owner to care about giving us names, or even using them for that matter."

The Pied Piper shivered as the spectral figure floated above. Grax called the being, "the Boss," and that was just as good as any name for him. The wounds caused by the other Aasimar weren't healing like normal. Normally one of the shamans would have him back in top shape. This time, though the burns remained and his hand couldn't manipulate the pipe in his hands.

"Congratulations are in order, I suppose," the Boss said. "You managed to capture three, but four escaped."

"Yes, oh great one," Grax, the scarred Orc said. "The rest will soon be ours. My remaining Orcs are hunting them now. If you send twelve more, they will be ours."

"They are your Orcs to do with as you please Grax," the Boss responded. "I suppose you are asking me to portal them to you. Granted then. You, Piper, will heal, but it will take several days. This Aasimar is more powerful than we believed."

"He resisted the music, we may need to end him," the Pied Piper gasped.

The boss looked intrigued for a moment, then said, "Do it then. Destroy him."

"Gladly!" the Pied Piper snarled.


	14. Chapter 14

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XV

The monk and the warlock followed Jeeves as he led them to the library. The candle in the steward's hand lit up the area like the brightest of lanterns. Shadows shrunk away from the illumination, like night to the coming dawn. This wasn't lost onto the two following the steward. Darkness always retreats in the face of Light.

Entering the library, both were surprised by the extent of it. Not so much how large it was, as they were getting used to the unique physics of the mansion. Instead, it was the amount of knowledge was present. Books lined up multitudes of shelves, scrolls filed in gigantic grid like boxes. Candles and lanterns flitted about like birds, while ladders walked from shelf to shelf.

Kirann walked around the perimeter, counting off his steps. Soon though he gave up, as his steps became so numerous, yet the distance from the door seemed the same. He looked back at Raven, who was just as gob smacked as he. With her love of books and thirst of knowledge, this must have been a paradise.

Jeeves cleared his throat, "This way, sir."

The steward led him to a corner, where the Librarian was. Fittingly the desk was large, with numerous tomes and several maps strewn about. Made of dark oak, and stained dark, it matched the décor of the library. The carpeting was a deep maroon, while the walls not covered in bookcases, were tan. In the flickering light of the candles and lanterns, the feel was old and somehow warm.

"Librarian, Master Kirann needs some assistance," Jeeves called out.

Raven at first didn't see who he was talking to, until the book piles moved. A small, hunched figure appeared almost as magic. An over large brown cloak moved, disrupting the unintentional camouflage. The slight being had rail thin arms that showed beneath the cloak's sleeves. A large head, for the body it was on, looked up as the being pulled back its hood. There was an immense intelligence behind those eyes, a sharp mind to go against the frail body.

The Librarian spoke in a raspy, oft unused voice, "What does 'Master' want?"

"I am looking for lore on a certain object," Kirann said.

"Whoopty do! Care to be more forthcoming, or should I play twenty questions?" the Librarian rolled his eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry, should I bow and scrape on my knees?" the Librarian continued when he saw the look Jeeves was giving him.

"Librarian, he is the master of the manor, show some respect!" Jeeves reprimanded the other inhabitant. "Master Kirann, my apologies. He's always been a bit of a loose cannon. I'll help you find what you seek."

The monk stopped him with a hand, "No need. Master Librarian, my friends were captured by man using a magical pipe. It took them over, and those that resisted felt great pain."

"I may have a book on something like that, maybe ten. Can you describe more of it?" the Librarian's tone shifted to inquisitive.

"About the length of my forearm, intricate patterns etched," Kirann explained. "Its notes were odd. Almost as if the same note, but played on different planes."

The Librarian perked up at this, "It sounds like one of the pipes of Pan. Check under the Magus section, Utility bookcase, should be sub area Magical Instruments. After that it is either the third or fourth row. Name of the book you'll need is, 'The Wizard's Guide to Magical Instruments.' You can also find more information in some of diaries, I've acquired from Elminster and Blackstaff."

At the sound of those names, Raven's blood almost quit running. The Elminster, the most powerful sage, wizard, or whatever title you wanted to throw at him. This was one who regularly fought things, that made their current enemy look like a village idiot. Blackstaff was another famous mage, and just as fierce. Both were very handy when a world ending event was nigh.

"One question," the Librarian said. "What will you do with this knowledge?'

"Save my friends, destroy the pipe," Kirann quickly answered. "Bring those responsible to justice."

The Librarian looked for a moment, before nodding in agreement, "Then I guess I should wish you luck. Just don't die, as a master, you're not too intolerable."

The monk chuckled as he walked away. Raven beside him, still looked caught between unlimited wonder and thinking at any minute she'd ejected out. There was no good reason for that, but she was always used to being ran out, just when she was becoming happy. Which despite the dire circumstances, she was.

Here she had people that cared for her, except maybe for Manheim. Sights many never saw surrounded her, and the promise of unlimited knowledge was right here! Beside her was a man who needed her help to do something great, who relied on her as a trusted friend. Down the hall was a true friend, one willing to keep her secret. For the first time in a very long time, she felt like she belonged, almost like a family.

True to the Librarian's directions, they found the book. Just to be safe, Kirann also picked up some other books about magical instruments. Together, he and Raven took the collected books back to a nearby table. There they sate for several hours pouring over the collected information.

Val woke up with a start. She bolted upright, terror gripped her chest. Taking a couple of breaths, she looked around to get her bearings. With a reserved relief, the realization hit that this was Kirann's magical mansion.

Her armor was laid out beside her bed, and had been cleaned. Whomever had done the cleaning had gone to great detail. The leather armor probably hadn't looked this good, when she had originally gotten it. Still, she had to thank whomever had done the work. With as muddy as the armor had been after the fight, it couldn't have been an easy job.

Getting out of bed, she felt the night gown fall, from where it had bunched up. Beneath her feet was a warm carpet, and she ran her toes through it. Nearby was a tray with some breakfast items. Val went over to it, the smell instantly reminded her that she was ravenous. Not wasting a moment, the rogue wolfed down the food.

Moments later she exited her room, feeing full and rested. Lorinda was outside, sitting outside her door. Hands holding her head gingerly, Lorinda looked to still be in pain. Val went over and plopped down next to the druid. She looked up, but made no comment towards the rogue.

"Still got a headache?" Val asked.

Lorinda nodded, "When I get my hands on that Piper, I'm sticking my staff blade up his ass."

"Why don't you get some more rest? I'll go see what the others are up to," Val nudged the Elf druid.

Lorinda shook her head, "No, I can't sleep any more. I just need to get out into nature, the Goddess will take care of me."

"Well, let's find you an exit," Val helped Lorinda up.

"No, let's find Kirann. I'm sure by now he's got a plan," Lorinda said, even as the pain pulsed through her head.

By the time they made it back to the main entrance, Loralei was able to lead them to the library. Maneuvering the ordered chaos, they found their friends planning. Val couldn't help but smile at how close the two were sitting to each other. Closer than necessary, but comfortable, a close type of comfort.

Looking up, Kirann went to them both. He embraced them both, something he didn't normally do. It caught Val off guard, but she eventually relaxed, even enjoying his warmth. He released her, and Raven took his place, hugging the rogue. It was a simple thing, but one that said more than a thousand word poem.

Lorinda was still in pain, but she asked, "Do you have a plan?"

"Yes, but we are going to need help," Kirann replied. "By now their numbers are bolstered."

Val was curious, "What makes you think that?"

"Because that's what he would do," Raven said. "They may even be looking for us."

"So where to?" Lorinda felt relief at there being a plan.

Kirann looked tired, but ready, "I know of someone. They might help."

"First though, you get some sleep!" Raven countered. "Don't make me have Loralei drag you to bed."

Hours later, the remainder of the Challengers emerged back into the forest. Fully rested, they headed back out of the forest. Kirann had complained about the delay, but now rested, was grateful. True to Lorinda's thought, her headache vanished once back in nature's embrace.

The path into the forest, branched off to the north, which went to a small town. Unlike the more built up areas around Baldurs Gate or Neverwinter, this part of Faerun was quite rustic. Further north, eventually they'd come to the Silver Marches. That series of towns was the home of many heroes, including Lady Alustriel.

She was High Lady of the League of the Silvermarshes. A confederation of towns, like Mithrall Hall, Citadel Adbar and Silverymoon, just to name a few. They came together to defend their homes in time of need, and most notably when the Kingdom of Many Arrows was created on their border. To the towns further south of them though, they might as well have been another continent away.

The people of these smaller, more rustic towns, tended to be independent, self sufficient and tolerant to a point. Most of the inhabitants were farmers, though you could find cobblers, blacksmiths and the like in the town centers. Horses here were sturdy, strong workers. The tended to be lashed to wagons or plows, but taken of very well. The dress of the town people tended to be comfortable and easily mended. Many had the leathery skin of those who toil under the sun.

In this town, it was a harvest day. Farmers from around the surrounding areas had brought in their goods for barter. There were many carts along the streets, filled to the brim with produce. Being so busy, the people didn't notice the four newcomers at first. Any though were welcome, especially if they bought something while there. To some of the onlookers, the newcomers made them uneasy.

Set up in one long line, the main town center was laid out along the thoroughfare of the town. Shops, bigger buildings and even the town hall were located on either side of the road running through it. So, it wasn't too hard to find the inn. Modest though it was, the owners had taken a lot of care.

The four entered into the inn, which was very subdued to most they had been in. Were normally there would be a musician or entertainer, they had a man sleeping in a corner. The raucous shouting of adventurers and others, was instead the subdued hum of private conversations. A cloud of smoke circled about the meeting area of the inn, as many of those gathered were smoking pipes.

Most notably, nobody but one person was wearing their hood up. This small figure off in the corner was generating a fair amount of interest. Infront of the figure sat a nearly untouched glass of ale. While the hood was over the figure's face, one couldn't help but feel like eyes were still on you.

The four Challengers walked over to the empty table. The figure looked up, but said nothing. Kirann pulled out a chair, but waited for the nod before he sat down. The others joined him, with the Elf looking the most uncomfortable. They had garnered this person even more interest, since they were definitely outsiders. Thanks to her Elven heritage, her ears picked up more of the conversations than a normal human's ears would.

"I wasn't expecting to see you so soon," the figure said. A feminine voice, with a slight accent to it, and it sounded familiar to Val.

Kirann gave a weary smile, "We ran into some trouble, and could use someone of your talents."

"You sound familiar," Raven said. "You're the traveler, aren't you?!"

"A good ear, you have," Leilani smiled beneath her hood. "So, what can a humble sorceress do for you?"

Kirann explained, "Three of our people were taken, and you would even the odds. We face a Fallen Aasimar, and untold amount of Orcs. I'd like to have someone they aren't expecting."

"Sounds intriguing, however I'm not sure," Leilani said.

"Look we'll pay," Val interjected. "We just need to get our friends back."

The figure turned to the Half-Elf, "That is not the problem, it is welcome, but that isn't the issue. Many would object to working with me, just because of what I am."

"We run with a warlock," Lorinda said. "I doubt we could get worse than that."

"You would think, Lady Elf," Leilani shot back. "Though if you saw my face, would you still say that?"

"I don't understand," Lorinda looked at Kirann, and she saw he wasn't surprised. Immediately she was annoyed at him, and very, very curious as to all the secrecy.

"Tell her, Sir Monk," Leilani said. "Just not too loud, I'd like to walk out of here."

"She's a Drow," Kirann said, his voice just low enough for his party to hear.

"What?!" Lorinda's hands went for her weapon, only to be stopped by her friend. "You knew?!"

Kirann nodded, "Yes." Turning back to Leilani, "Will you help us?"

"She's not going to skewer me in the night is she?" Leilani's hand was pointed towards the incensed Elf druid.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Lorinda growled at Kirann.

"Because it doesn't matter," he answered. "She needed help, we gave it. To keep from fighting, she left before anyone woke. A person's actions should define them, not those of their people."

"One of these days, that is going to get you killed!" Lorinda shot back. Angrily looking at the hooded figure, she finally relented. "You step out of line one time, you even twitch in a way I think will harm my friends, I'll end you. However, I won't object. Kirann sees something in you, and I trust him."

What about you two?" Leilani asked Raven and Val. "Do you object to an Evil Drow traveling with you?"

Val felt cold in her gut, like an iceberg had parked itself there. This was not the revelation she was expecting, but knowing Raven's secret, she had a different viewpoint than the druid. Would the party feel the same way about her, if they knew that secret? Would the group run Raven out, or would the accept her?

"I trust Kirann, and if you can help rescue our friends, I'm willing to go on a little faith," she said.

Raven thought for a moment, "I'll go along with this. Betray us, and the druid won't have a chance. I'll take you out, understood?"

"One can just feel the love in the room," Leilani smirked. "At least you're not trying to murder me, or feed me to the locals. I'll call that a win. Alright, when do we leave?"

Kirann smiled, feeling things start to change again, "Immediately, but first I need to talk with an apiarist."

"A beekeeper? Whatever for?" a confused Leilani tried to think for a reason. She could only think he really liked honey.

"You'll see," he said, looking more like a cat after a successful hunt, at least as happy as one.


	15. Chapter 15

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XV

The Pied Piper flexed his hands, his scarred hands. Horrid mangled, messes of hands, that produced worn leather sounds as he flexed them. The Orc priest of Gruumsh had prayed to restore his manual dexterity. Apparently, the Orc god wasn't keen on healing the visible damage. He'd be able to play his pipe, but he'd still carry the scars. The scars that another Aasimar had inflicted upon him.

That made the bard want to smash something, to take his anger out. All he had around were the hostages, the enthralled heroes and Orcs. The loss of an Orc wouldn't be too bad, but they had so few. Attacks by the monk and his party had thinned out their numbers. True, the Boss had sent more through a portal, but the Pied piper didn't hold much stock in them.

His only consolation was that the monk now had fewer allies, three fewer in fact. Two would stay enthralled till something broke the spell. The last one though was being interrogated, and it was almost time for the bard to join in. While the Orcs were good at brute force, his methods were slightly more surgical. The paladin would tell them what he knew, it was just a matter of time.

Grax had Walton tied to a nearby tree, his arms raised above his head. The Orcish rope they used was gray and smelled like a skunk. His armor had been removed, and covered in muck before being thrown back in front of him. Paladins were known to be particular about the care of their weapons and armor, with dirty armor being a great dishonor to them. His two handed sword was being swung around by an Orc, who was hitting it against a tree like an axe.

Walton could only cringe as he heard his blade bounce off tree after tree. Already his mind was going to all the damage these stupid things were doing to it. Worse was the look of the Orc doing the swinging, he enjoyed the carnage. If not bound up, the paladin would show the porcine humanoid how to use the blade properly. It would also end another blight upon Faerun, as the Orc would be in pieces.

"Where are friends?" Grax asked, just as he slugged the hanging paladin in the face.

"Don't start with the face!" the Pied Piper called out. "It makes things go all fuzzy, then he's useless."

Grax huffed, "Still good for practice. Let Ristr use sharp club."

"It is a sword," the Pied Piper corrected, "and yes we could use it on the paladin. However, why don't you move along. I might be able to coax something out of him."

"Like the Hells you will!" Walton spit at the piper's feet. "I am a paladin of Tyr."

"Yes, yes, I know. Your god will protect you," the Fallen Aasimar groaned. "How many times have I heard that? There was a beautiful priestess of Sune, she stood against me once. We had some fun, there was blood spilled, and then I returned her to her sisterhood. They rejected her. Funny thing about Sune, goddess of beauty, she shuns ugly. After I was done with her, that priestess was very, very ugly."

"You're a monster, Justice will be served!" Walton tested his bonds, wanting so badly to break free and throttle this evil man.

"Settle down little paladin. We haven't even gotten to some of my more creative feats," the Pied Piper walked around to behind Walton. "See there was this dark ranger, who followed Talos. I used my pipe on him, put him under my spell. Then, just to have fun, I removed his spine. It wasn't easy, those things are in there really tight. Anyway, he didn't scream or complain. Surprised he lived so long, I actually convinced him to eat some of the flesh that came with it. Then there was.."

"I will get out of this and you will pay for all those you have harmed!" Walton was furious.

He pulled on his bindings with just one thought. Break free and take this evil out of existence. Then he was going to drag this shell, corpse or whatever remained in front of the gods and have them pass judgment. Walton felt the holy might pouring into his body and the bindings stretching. Then unbearable pain hit him like a ton of bricks.

"That was the venom from an Anaurochian scorpion. I hear it's quite painful," the Pied Piper sneered. "Now, where was I? Oh yes, I was telling you about some of the others that have stood against me. There was a pretty Elf and her children. I slaughtered them, then left them to be found. Just so her husband could find her, and enrage him. It worked, the brave, brave Elf walked right into my trap. I think I paid a wizard a few hundred gold to keep his head alive. The enchantment wore off after a while. By then, it was just a disgusting mess of maggots and bone."

"Let me out of these binds, and you'll see what a paladin.." Walton screamed as he was stuck again.

The Pied Piper smiled evilly, "You are going to die, or my master will turn you into an Oath Breaker. Either way, you're not leaving this the man you are now."

Still in great pain, Walton managed to growl, "The Challengers will rid this world of you."

"I hope they come soon, but it allows us to get to know one another better," the Pied Piper said, just as he jammed his envenomed needle into Walton over and over again.

The paladin screamed in excruciating pain, feeling as if his whole body was wash in flame. Wave after wave hit him till tears welled up in his eyes, and his throat was raw from screaming. Then, just when he thought it could get worse, the Piper made sure it was. Masterfully the evil bard kept Walton on the edge of passing out, and kept him from it.

The camp of the Orcs had changed little since the Challengers had raided it two days before. The villagers were still there, and being fed the Orcs' refuse. Grax had the twenty plus Orcs under him set up in a pattern of expanding rings. Their rings overlapped, allowing some to be sent out on scouting patrols. The Boss had taught them these tactics, even if they still fell back into Orcish tactics when engaging.

Grax had worked on some to form more intricate lines, like the Humans' shield wall. He didn't remember when these ideas started to make sense, but it was around the time the Boss had made him leader. He owed everything to the Boss, and his clan would make the Boss powerful, destroy his enemies, no matter what.

"Grax, Human spotted," one of the sentries exclaimed. "Looks like three more with him!"

"Good, take five, follow them," Grax commanded. To another Orc he ordered, "You, gather six, follow me. We trap them. Piper, you take hold eight here. Rest of you prepare ambush!"

The Orcs ran off to sping their trap, but the Pied Piper was more hesitant. He spread out his eight out, and pulled the two Grax had on ambush duty, back. There was little those two could do, if the enemy got past Grax. Not just that, but their leader was smart, he still had the scars to prove that.

Grax was listening to his people's calls and alarms. They were hot on the trail and he could smell the blood in the air. This was the hunt he had been expecting since the heroes had ambushed them. His blood sung, and he could feel the touch of Gruumsh on him. The One Eyed Orc god was smiling on them this day. For that, Grax would sacrifice one of the villagers to his god.

So into the hunt and the screams of tracking, that at first Grax didn't hear the scream change to one of pain. Right before him, one Orc was thrown into the air. Another screamed as a spiked log fell from a tree and impaled him and his partner. Another fell and screamed as spikes impaled him.

Grax stopped his group and looked at the four dead. The last had fallen into a pit, Grax could see the covering that had camouflaged it. The first Orc was hanging from a tree branch, with a dislocated leg and knee. The limb was bent unnaturally, with the unfortunate Orc lost in pain, unbearable pain. Grax killed him, for a lame Orc was no Orc. The two impaled Orcs were left on the tree, their stupidity a warning to the others.

He then led his remaining people forward, to meet up with the others. These heroes would pay for their trickery. However, he didn't get far into his fantasy of revenge, as more screams came from the forest. Stopping, he saw off in the distance more Orcs falling into traps. Grax sent a plea up to Gruumsh, and fear began to seep into his heart.

The lead Orc rushed over and found the survivors of the other group. He had lost four, but they had lost three. That left five remaining, not including himself, to chase down the heroes. Rather than the pincer attack they had planned, he gathered them back up into one group. Six against four were better odds, but Grax felt the need to turn back.

He should have heeded it. For he did find his quarry, and his quarry wasn't running. The monk stood in front, but Grax could make out four more figures huddled behind the man. He let the man see him, see his scars and see his weapons. Grax was a warrior and would not wilt before a fool who fought weaponless. His warriors behind him followed suit, raising their weapons and whooping war cries into the air.

"Come little human! The Boss wants you alive. Your friends will live, as our slaves," Grax called out.

Kirann smiled and waved at the Orc, causing him much confusion. He knew his enemy was smart, too smart to do something so stupid as antagonize a superior force. Yet, he stood there. Grax felt something on the inside, a bit of warning, but ignored it. He should have listened.

A large bear rushed the Orcs. They turned to face it, ignoring the monk for the more immediate threat. The huge animal barreled into them, throwing one Orc high into the sky. As that one fell back like a huge greenish stone, another stabbed at the bear. Only his attack fell short as a bright blast of sun light took the Orc's head off. Another was slapped by the bear, and fell to the ground with deep lacerations across its chest.

Grax managed to stab the bear, unfortunately for him, he didn't seriously hurt it. His weapon enraged it, which it took the rage out on the nearest Orc. By this time Kirann was already taking out another. More fell as bear and monk worked in tandem, till only Grax was left standing, but barely.

The lead Orc lay bleeding on the ground. Severe wounds leaked his life blood onto the dirt below. His eyes showed he knew the end was near, and realization of failing his god. Gruumsh had given him these smarts, albeit from the Boss, but the Boss was an agent of Grummsh. He could only look disbelieving as the bear licked the human, before lumbering off.

"Tell me, why do you fight?" Kirann walked over to the fallen Orc leader.

"Boss make me smart, let's me do Grummsh's work," Grax snarled. "You wouldn't understand, Human."

Kirann smiled, "You'd be surprised."

He pulled the Orc up to his feet, and handed his weapon back to him. Grax looked confused, this human was helping him. He must know that Grax didn't have long to live, so why help him back to his feet. The Orc shot the monk a curious look, an unasked question in the air.

"A warrior should die with his boots on and weapon in hand," Kirann answered. "May your next life be in the service of others."

With that Kirann punched forward. His attack focused on the center of the Orc's chest, and powered by his power. The burning fist connected, crushing Grax's sternum. The Orc fell to the ground again, this time dead before he hit. A smile was on his face, glad that he hadn't let his god down, by dying on his back.

Kirann set the body on fire, then left to meet up with the rest of his people. The "group" the Orcs had seen swayed in the wind. Bushes grown to be the shape of huddled masses, and left as a reminder of a group's cunning. While a bear went back to its den to eat some fruit left by a druid, while a pack of wolves patrolled around. Lorinda had made sure they would stick around long enough for the bear to recuperate.

The Pied Piper looked worried. Something was off, and he couldn't put his finger on it. When the sky darkened, he knew the attack was imminent. He called the Orcs to his side, forming a line to meet the incoming heroes. As a result the lightning bolt form the sky missed them, blasting the ground just in front of the Fallen Aasimar.

Next thing the Pied Piper knew, he was flying through the air. A blast of fire threw him and his forces around, none died. However, they weren't moving quickly either. In fact, the Piper saw four figures rushing forward to do battle. He reached for his pipe, and brought it to his lips despite the pain.

Lorina ran one Orc through, while Raven slashed down with her Khopesh. Her target fell to the ground, twirling as he died. Val leapt onto the back of a big Orc and brought her knife across his neck. Her Orc fell dying, clutching his throat, that was pumping out his blood. Behind her, Leilani cast a magic missile that destroyed another one.

The battle continued like that, with the Challengers taking out monstrous porcine beings after another. It was during this that the Pied Piper caught enough of his breath to play his pipe. Enchanting melody filled the air, coursing out to bring his attackers to him. Slinking towards them like insidious serpents of command, he focused on destroying their wills quickly. They stood no chance, for he had done this multiple times since claiming the pipe.

To his shock, none of the Challengers turned, stopped or even seemed to react to the enslaving music. The Piper played harder, and still the Challengers didn't react. Confused he stood there dumbfounded, for once the pipe had failed. Had the magic failed, or was it an injury he sustained?

"Surrender, and you'll be taken back for trial," Kirann yelled behind him.

The Pied Piper quickly turned and threw a throwing knife, but the monk caught it and sent it back. The Piper hissed, the knife sticking out of his thigh. A sun bolt hit his hand with the pipe in it, causing him to drop the instrument. A hooded figure quickly retrieved it, before disappearing from his sight.

"How, how did you do it?" the Piper growled, and was trying to stall for time.

Kirann shrugged, "Are you ready to give up now?"

"Maybe next time," the Pied Piper said.

From his pack, the Piper threw down an egg shaped object. The device cracked into a thousand pieces, and from it a puff of smoke erupted. It surrounded the bard, obscuring him from view. The Challengers rushed forward, hoping to capture the Piper, but he was gone. As the smoke cleared, the only thing left were a few drops of blood. He had escaped.

Kirann pulled the wax from his ears, as the others followed suit. Leilani held the pipe out to him, and he took it gingerly. Looking over the intricate designs, and the small bored our holes, the instrument was heavier than it looked. It was beautifully crafted for something that had caused so much pain.

"So, what do we do now?" Lorinda asked.

Raven answered, "According to the lore, we can release these people by playing a song on it. Possibly they'd be released if we just destroyed it, but I'd rather not test that just yet."

"Where are our friends?" Val was looking around, and she gasped when she saw Walton.

The paladin was bruised and bloody, with one eye nearly swelled shut. He hung from the overhead branch, still bound by his hands. The group got him down, gingerly helping him lie down. He looked up, to see his friends through his good eye. A smile erupted on his face, and he coughed as he tried to take in a deep breath.

"The Piper told me you'd leave me, but I knew Tyr would see you successful," Walton wheezed.

"Take it easy, you need rest," Lorinda told him, even as she reached out to heal his wounds. "Where are the others?"

"He had Boris and Manheim sleep," Walton explained. "He got information about who we worked for, and where you might go. He knows about the bag, but not where you were at. Wanted to know where you were, so the Orcs could hunt you down."

"Easy now," Kirann told the paladin. "It's okay, we'll get you to a healer."

"Save the people," Walton said, his eyes getting heavy. "I'll be okay.."

Raven pulled Kirann off, "I can play the instrument, or at least try to."

"If it doesn't work, we can still destroy the instrument, right?" he asked.

She nodded, "Last resort though."

Taking a deep breath, Raven brought the pipe to her lips. The song that came out was mournful, sad but with a sliver of hope. Loneliness filled the notes, and the swam out to all those in earshot. The villagers started to wake, Boris and Manheim woke up, tears streaming down their faces. Raven changed to tune, making it more hopeful, and the people rose up. One by one, the villagers came back to their senses. Soon they all called out for release.

Raven released the song, and immediately felt faint. The energy it took to release everyone had her wiped out. Luckily her friends were there to catch her. She looked up with relief, finding Val and Kirann holding her. It was nice having friends. She felt safe, and almost like she could let her guard down. In her exhausted state she almost said as much.

However, Boris interrupted, "Ye dolts, anyone goin' to let us out?"


	16. Chapter 16

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XVI

Days later, the Challengers were back in Altamar. Though he had rested in Kirann's magical manor, and had improved, Walton was rushed to a Church of Tyr. The wizard Bruce Robertson quickly pulled Kirann off to the side, to talk about the magical pipe they had recovered. Meanwhile Lorinda disappeared into the shadows, leaving the others to report. The newest member, Leilani had found a quick excuse to exit as well, never letting her face be seen.

Lord Wallace waited patiently as his wizard excitedly talked with the monk leader of the Challengers. Still, after a bit he did a polite cough, bringing the attention back to the report needed. The wizard was sufficiently chastised, but still looked like he had a million questions to ask. That left the monk available to deliver the report

Kirann went over what had happened to the villagers, and where they had been held. They had found documents that spoke of a massing of Orcs. The Orcs that the Challengers had taken out, were to be the tip of the spear against Altamar. The rest of the army would arrive, but now the city had advanced warning.

This caused Lord Wallace to pause. Other cities had fended off Orcish invasions before, and further to the east was an Orcish kingdom. The Dwarves of Mithrall Hall had marched against them recently, and had put Obould the VII back onto his throne. This was something that he could not allow to happen.

While the Kingdom of Many Arrows had proven the Orcs were more than beasts, many of the race still acted like it. According to the Challengers' report someone was pulling the strings, behind the scenes. This someone had enough power and influence to bring multiple tribes of Orcs under their sway. None of the notes said who this mysterious Boss was.

The good news was that now Lord Wallace could prepare. He would start by sending messengers to the surrounding towns, and invoking the treaty that held them together. They would need to start patrols, and looking at raising an army. However, unlike the Silver Marches, Neverwinter or Baldurs Gate, the surrounding towns weren't large enough for a substantial military presence.

Most of the towns were like Wyverns Rest, and only had the guard for defense. Sadly there was more needed. There weren't any numbers associated with the crude writings, but Wizard Robertson concluded that there were many. Pictographs used by the Orcs seemed to show where forces were located at. The wizard's best guess, was that each pictograph either showed a tribe of one hundred or a thousand. Along the borders were too many pictographs to count.

Lord Wallace sent out messengers to the Silver Marches, with a map of possible Orc locations. He also thought about sending messengers to Neverwinter and Baldurs Gate, but feared the political ramifications of that. Armies from those two cities could be seen as an invasion force, and cause more havoc than was needed. He didn't need other sovereign kingdoms declaring war over a misunderstanding.

However, he could ask the cities to send adventurers and mercenaries. It would be expensive, but Altamar could pay for most up to a point. He'd have to get Wyverns Rest and the other towns around to agree. Like the Silver Marches when the original King Obould invaded, they would have to band together. Still the question was why, why did this mysterious figure want or need such a large Orcish army?

That would have to wait for another day, and would probably make a great quest for the Challengers to investigate. So, he did send messengers out to the two town far to the north west. To speed them along, his court wizard had opened a portal to a fishing town just outside of Baldurs Gate. It was a start.

Lord Wallace though gave the Challengers leave to rest and recuperate. Each went their separate ways. Val and Raven went to the docks, feeling more at home among the workers and regular people, than the aristocracy or holy people. Boris went for the nearest tavern, and began a drunken binge drinking, that quickly got out of control. Kirann went to check on Walton, and to find Leilani. That left Manheim to find a quiet place to study many of the books he had borrowed.

Val looked upon the anchored ships in the harbor. Her mind wandered to the what ifs of the high seas. Drawn by stories of daring and fate defying, she imagined life on the high seas. In her mind she saw fighting on masts, crossing swords with pirates and mists of sea spray washing across her face. The wind in her hair as her sturdy ship sliced through the water like one of her blades. It was a wondrous fantasy.

"Copper for your thoughts," Raven elbowed her.

Val looked embarrassed, "Just playing out a fantasy. I've always wanted to travel the high seas."

"The life of a seafarer," Raven sounded slightly amused. "I could see that. Hey, stick around long enough and I'm sure Lord Wallace will throw us onto a boat."

Val perked up, "You think! I mean that would be awesome! Could you imagine what new lands lay beyond the horizon."

Raven laughed and hugged her friend, "You're incorrigible. Don't ever change."

The two women stood there for several moments, watching the sailors work and dreaming of what lay out there on the sea. Behind them crept up several armed men, all were set for the capture of their target. One was very familiar to Val, if she hadn't been distracted enough to notice.

"Val, by the authority of Lord Byron, I place you under arrest," Marshal Goodman shouted as his men lunged forward. "You will be taken back for trial, and imprisonment."

Both Val and Raven were caught off guard, but didn't go down quietly. As one grabbed Val, she lashed out with a quick backhand, temporarily stunning the man. The one that attempted to subdue Raven, found himself on the ground, clutching his crotch in pain. Marshall Goodman winced, feeling for the poor man. The rest were sufficiently cautious, and created a circle around the two women.

"What the hell," Val said. "I've been out of town, what are you griefing me for?"

Marshal Goodman produced a writ from his cloak, "By the order of Lord Byron, you are to be brought back for trial. You are accused of theft, and assault of Byron's wife."

"When did this supposedly happen?" Raven asked, her hand resting on her Khopesh.

Marshal Goodman looked at her, "You miss, should stop resisting, we are only here for the thief."

"That didn't answer the lady's question," a new voice added in. Val was relieved to see it was Lorinda, and the druid didn't look happy. "When did Val supposedly do this crime?"

"Look, druid, this is a matter for the justices," Marshal Goodman explained.

Lorinda's blade staff was out in an instant, "Except we are in Altamar, where you hold no legal authority. Considering we just came from Lord Wallace's castle, I would think he'd be aware of this writ."

"Not to mention, Captain Reynolds is very particular about keeping up with the wanted posters," Raven interjected. "In fact, we'll wait here for him and his guards. They'll settle this."

Marshal Goodman knew he was in the deep end. The writ had come from a person in authority, but here in Altamar, it was just another piece of paper. He didn't want to fail, but if the guards of this town were involved, things would get complicated. There was always the possibility that this Captain Reynolds would be accommodating. Still, there was a reason why he hadn't gone to him just yet.

"Why don't we make this worth everyone's while," the marshal said. "There is a five hundred gold reward for here capture. Why don't you two claim it, and we'll take the thief back for trial."

"Again!" Lorinda commanded, lightning in her eyes, "When did she supposedly do this theft? We have been on the road for weeks, cleaning up bandit camps and slaughtering Orcs."

Marshal Goodman felt his face drain, "For weeks you say?"

"Yes, you idiot!" Val screamed. "I keep telling you, Lord Byron blames thieves for his wife's charity."

"Enough, Val," Lorinda moved forward. "Yes, had you bothered to go the captain here, or even spoken with the lord of this town, you would have known this. I can attest though, that she has been with us the whole time. We haven't been back since then."

"Then she has no worries to face trial," Marshal Goodman countered.

Raven pulled her Khopesh, startling men surrounding her, "No! Your lord can go through the proper channels to extradite her, and only with proof."

"Lord Byron's word is all we need," the marshal shrugged. He looked back at Lorinda, hoping that she'd back down.

Instead the druid just shook her head, "Don't look at me. I'm a druid and have little use for laws of men. Laws of nature say to protect your family."

By now the ruckus being called had drawn the guards of Altamar, and a second ring formed around the group. Marshal Goodman tried to explain, but none of the guards would move till their captain had arrived. Which he did several minutes later, looking very upset at being disturbed. It wasn't every day that a group of people attempted to abduct a person in broad daylight.

After arriving, Captain Reynolds had Marshal Goodman brought to him. The two lawmen discussed the issue, and the more it went on, the angrier Captain Reynolds got. A little at the marshal, as he hadn't given the captain professional courtesy. When you go hunting a fugitive in another's city, you normally told the other person. Mostly though it was for Lord Byron. He should have known that legality of his writ ended at the border of his city.

"Val, you and your friends are free to go," Captain Reynolds said. "You, Marshal Goodman, are to be escorted out to the city limits. There you may make a request to see Lord Wallace, but your men will remain outside the city gates. Do you understand me?"

The marshal didn't look happy at all, "You can't do this, I have a legal writ for her arrest!"

"And in your city, that would suffice," Captain Reynolds said. "Here in this city, it's not worth the vellum it's made of. Now leave, or you'll find yourself under arrest for disturbing the peace."

The marshal and his people started to move away. The guards around them created a pathway back to the city gates. Captain Reynolds stayed behind, to speak with the three Challengers. Val looked hurt, but not really shaken. Raven sheathed her Khopesh, while Lorinda had walked over to the Half-Elf rogue. She pulled her teammate into a warm embrace, which took Val by surprise.

"We'll get this straightened out," Lorinda said soothingly.

Val, still started by the show of emotion, "Thank you. You know, for sticking up for me."

Lorinda cleared her throat, "Making friends isn't always easy for me. I am proud though to travel by your side."

Val smiled, "I thought you didn't like me."

"You've earned my respect, and I hope you consider me a friend," Lorinda said.

"Of course!" Val hugged Lorinda tight. "You guys are my crew, my family!"

Raven smiled, but found herself feeling sad. She felt a bond with her fellow adventurers, but still wasn't sure she could be completely honest with them. The closer she got to them, the farther away she felt. All because of how she was born, it just wasn't fair. Then again, life wasn't fair. She knew that.

"Listen, there is a tavern nearby with some decent food," Lorinda offered. "How about we go and enjoy the fruits of our labors." She made sure to beckon Raven, "You too. I think we have all earned a night to relax. We'll figure this Lord Byron problem tomorrow."

Raven decided that the druid had a good point and the three ladies went off to a fine dinner. Because of the presence of alcohol, and the over imbibing by them, there were stories later of drunken singing and many admirers cheering them on. The next day, one would wake up with a nasty hangover, while the other two managed to shake off the effects.

Marshal Goodman and his men turned back as they neared the gates. The guards of Altamar instantly snapped into position. The message was clear, if they attacked, the guards would defend themselves. The marshal called his men off, having them stand down. Then gave them orders to meet outside the city limits, before he turned back to the guards.

"You can tell the thief that she is lucky that you saved her," he said.

One of the guards laughed at his hubris, "We didn't save her. After hunting Orcs, Goblins and all manner of bandits, those ladies didn't need our help. No, we saved you from them. Now, if you wish to meet with Captain Reynolds, come back in three hours."

Marshal Goodman looked at the guard, but decided against pushing it. Instead he went to where his people were and regrouped. He would meet with the captain, and even take this all the way to the local lord if need be. The thief would be returned back to Lord Byron, to receive judgement. It was just a matter of time.


	17. Chapter 17

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XVII

While the ruckus was going on at the docks, Leilani was making her way through the gleaming spires of the cathedrals near the castle. The massive churches were laid out more orderly than the poorer sections. Subdivided into grids, with streets in between to separate them. Each had a large swath of grounds for a garden and fountain set up. Inside were different, unique and hand-crafted decorations based on the religion.

She found herself in front of the Church of Tyr. In front of the main entrance was a massive statue of the maimed god. In his good hand was a sword at the ready, to dispense judgement. His missing hand held out in a point, whether accusingly or in an act of choosing. The visage was one about to deliver justice and order upon those who entered his sight. Leilani didn't find it off putting.

She moved on to the next, her hood pulled up to keep from drawing attention. Having waited till closer to dark, she hoped to see some of the sights. It was rare for her to see, being of her race's less than stellar reputation. Drawn though to these wondrous works, and wishing her adoptive father could be here to see them.

Years ago her mother had brought her to a hermit living in the woods. He was a man who had no wife, and as such, there were somethings he wasn't ready for. A middle-aged human, he had welcomed a stranger into his home for the night. Leilani was told the particular night had been rather cold. To his credit, he didn't throw her mother out, after seeing her ebon skin.

Memories of Blake Heathson made her feel warm on the inside. This loving, bearded man was something special. Every year he'd dress up in a red and white suit, deliver wooden toys to the children of the village near him. All year, he'd work on those little wooden toys. Using bits of the wood he couldn't use for his fire, he'd whittle the little things out. Intricately made, little toy soldiers would "walk," "salute," and "fight" for the little children. Others would be stuff dolls, for hugging and caring for, for those children with a more nurturing need.

Sometimes she would help him out, and she learned to carve as he did. He was loving and caring, always with a kind, soft word for her. Rarely did he raise his voice, and only in the most dire of circumstances. A worshipper of Mielikki, he passed on a reverence of the goddess to Leilani. He also helped her to come to terms with her innate magical abilities.

That was something the Drow didn't like to think about, ashamed of how she had almost burned down their little cabin. She had been angry, feeling isolated after a human boy threw a rock at her. She hadn't meant to spout fire from her hand, and was horrified as it burned the outside of the cabin.

She had run off, tears streaming and soon found herself lost in the forest. Her spirits low, she sat down feeling bad for herself. That was till two glowing eyes opened up, and she realized a great cat had her in its sights. However, the beast huffed and walked off, to be replaced with a man in a green cloak.

The man wore two scimitars on his hips, and his green cloak covered his face. The armor on his torso though was well made, and gave off a magical feel. How Leilani knew, she wasn't sure at that time. She would eventually find out, that because of her innate magic, this was normal.

"Don't mind Guen," the figure said. She could almost hear a bit of bemusement in the man's voice. "She's really just a big baby. What brings you so far from home?"

Leilani spoke softly with shame, "I did something bad."

"Well that happens, but I know your parents must be worried about you," the man said, bending over and gathering stray pieces of wood off the ground. "Here, let me start a fire. It is freezing out tonight. Now what did you do that was so bad?"

"Lit our outside wall on fire," she hung her head in shame, white hair cascading down beside her face. "I was just so angry at the boy."

The man started a fire, "There we go. Come closer to it, keep warm. So why did you set your home on fire?"

"I didn't mean to! I was just so angry, and the next thing I know fire is jumping from my hand," Leilani started to sob. "I don't want to be bad, why am I?"

"I don't think you're bad," the man softly said. "Sounds to me like you have some magical talent."

"What?!" the young Drow girl looked confused.

The man gave a hearty chuckle, "I am a ranger of Mielikki, and she gives me certain things I can do, but because of my people, I have other things that others of Mielikki can't do. Those abilities that only I can do, is inherent to me. Sounds to me like you have magic that is inherent to you."

"I don't want it, it made me do something bad," Leilani had wished to get rid of this power that scared her.

The man continued, "Now I have trained all my life with these scimitars, becoming deadly to those who make me an enemy. My father was the best weapon master there was, so many thought to use him for that. However, whether learned or inherent, our abilities are only tamed when we practice them. What you have makes you different, but what you do with that power makes you special."

"You don't think I'm bad?" she asked softly. "The boy said I was evil, and threw a rock at me."

The man moved closer to her, "No, little one. I think you are just scared. People like us aren't always accepted, but you get to choose what person you are."

"Like us?" Leilani was not more curious than sad any longer.

The man pulled back his hood as he introduced himself, "My name is Drizzt."

Leilani recognized the white hair, and ebon skill as being like hers. Instantly she had a thousand and one questions. Thankfully, Drizzt was very patient and answered most he could. Soon her energy began to wane, to which she gently fell asleep on a bed of leaves. Made by this ranger, she was warm and felt safe.

Later that night Blake Heathson found her sleeping by a dying campfire. Feeling grateful to find her, he lifted her up gently and held her tight. Daughter in all but blood, he had been worried when she had ran off. The damage to the cabin was minor, something he could easily fix. His biggest concern was that she had been hurt during her flight. Grateful she was fine, he kissed her forehead. They spent several moments like that, with him making sure this wasn't a dream.

"She is special," came a voice from the forest. "I stood watch, hoping someone would come looking for her."

Blake nodded, "Thank you stranger."

"No thanks are necessary," the voice said. "You are special to care for a child not your own, reminds me of a good friend of mine. Care for her."

Blake took Leilani back home, a shadow following them, keeping them from any harm. In the morning Leilani would wake to find her adoptive father watching over her. Instantly he pulled her in tight, and all was right in the world. She apologized about the damage, and he explained it wasn't all that bad. They did end up replacing the wood that was damaged, but it turned out to be a minor repair.

He had been a loving father, and was in constant awe of what could be created from the elements. Stone, metal, glass, and more, he always found them amazing to behold. Many times he brought her back stories of the objects being traded in town, or what some traveling merchant had brought. He was her connection to the world outside their land.

Like most mortal things, nothing could last forever. Soon her adoptive father began told her it was time for her to learn more about her abilities. He gave her some gold saved up, tips for staying out of trouble, and sent her in search of a teacher for her abilities. They tearfully said their goodbyes, and she started on a journey of a lifetime.

Leilani pulled herself back into the present, finding herself in front of a temple to Mielikki. A smile pulled at her lips, and she instinctively reached for the silver pendant under her shirt. He had given that, to protect her on the road. Thoughts returning from a better time, back to one more interesting. She quickly moved on, already having spent more time than she needed to. Maybe one day she'd be able to go inside, and see what a temple looked like from there.

Walton lay recuperating, restlessly. Most of his wounds had been healed, but the clerics had him laying about. He would have much rather been out practicing with the other initiates. Instead he felt like a bump on a log, and about as useful as one. At least they left him with a treatise on Tyr's works for him to read over.

He was still bored. What he needed was one of Val's stories, or Raven's recital of a far-gone battle. Even Kirann's discussions, in his own spartan way was entertaining. He could almost hear them over the campfire now, and oddly where he felt most comfortable. Boris with his bawdy jokes, Lorinda giving the Dwarf nasty looks because of them. Then there was Manheim, always trying to prove he was the smartest person in the camp, and not really succeeding.

There was one good thing though, a young cleric by the name of Angelique. Very pretty, stronger than she looked, and with a head of golden hair. She wore it up, and the light diffusing through her hair, made her appear to have a halo around her face. She was the priestess that routinely came to look on him, and she had a smile to steal a thousand hearts. Better, her skills as a healer were the best, in his humble opinion.

"How is our brave paladin doing?" she asked.

Instantly he wasn't bored at all, "Very well milady. I feel like taking on an ogre."

She laughed, and what a grand angelic laugh it was, "Well you'll be out there soon enough. Now, you need some rest. Luckily for you I brought some cards and some food. Nothing lifts the spirits like a good game and company."

"I thank you," he said. "I was feeling a little sick of having to stay put."

She nodded, "I can imagine. You adventuring types tend to like the interesting life."

"What about you?" he asked, genuinely curious.

She put the collected food down between them, "For the right reasons, but I find plenty to keep me busy here. Looking after those in need of Tyr's guidance, his grace and taking care of those dispensing his justice."

By the end of the night, two had become closer to one. Both Walton and Angelique found something in each other, and the brave paladin began looking at something more than just unending duty. Maybe there could be a legacy for him, but mostly maybe there was someone he could trust with himself. To help carry them, as they carried him when needed. A partner in life, a partner in this grand adventure called life.

Manheim returned back to his room, he lit the candle. Nobody was there to meet him, no pet to greet him. Not like the monk's little devil spawn. His room was bare, except for the table full of tomes. Some were borrowed, some bought, and a few were "acquired."

He poured through the collected knowledge, and set down the spells he would need for the next day. For that was the nature of magic, once used, the spell would disappear from his memory, till he memorized them again for the next day. That was why his spell book was so important, and had a lot of protective spells and wards placed on it. He didn't want anything to easily destroy it.

Still, he felt an emptiness. Like he was missing something, or something was missing. He knew however, that all of his things were accounted for. So, that couldn't be it. No, the others would probably say it was interaction, with other people. They were fools though, he didn't need anything other than his magic. With that he could do whatever he wanted, and didn't need anyone's judgement.

He sat in his room, no noise other than his pen to the pages of his spell book. There was one spell he was looking forward to trying. If all went according to plan, and he sure it was, then he'd have what he deserved. He began to cast the spell needed, a ritual spell that wouldn't affect his memorized spells.

The world of Faerun was one of many. There were many universes out there, connected together in a multiverse. Through his research, Manheim had come across mentions of places like Eberron, Krynn and something called "Planescape." Most would have been thought of as the ravings of the crazed, but he knew differently. Looking at the books, he found the hidden details, and ways of bridging those gaps. He'd start small, just one thing did he plan to bring over.

Manheim chanted, growing more vocal and animated as he went about the ritual. A bright light lit up before him and swirling currents of air swept around him. His robes flapped around him, while his eyes teared up from looking at the bright light. Still, he kept his focus and was rewarded as the light exploded, leaving behind a frail form.

He was not done yet, for there was another part needed for what he intended. He quickly ran through the spell, and a collar appeared around the frail form's neck. The being instantly fell in pain, as the collar quickly jolted them. Then, Manheim was sure his work was done.

"Rise!" he commanded the pale, frail form. "You now belong to me, Changeling."

"Where am I?" the pale being asked, but immediately fell again as another shock hit it.

Manheim snarled, "You are where I tell you to be. Now, take a more pleasing form."

The Changeling, ripped from her own world, took the form of a young dark-haired woman. She still stood completely naked in front of the wizard, and shivered. He threw her some clothes, and she put them on. It did little to warm her up, as the clothing was quite revealing.

"Good, now your new home is this," he pointed towards a small exotic oil lamp.

Looking more like a pouring bowl, with a long snout and top, this wasn't like regular oil lamps. He had purchased this from a desert merchant, currently selling his wares in Altamar. Having been successful in his summoning, the price of the lamp was now very much worth it.

"As you have learned," the wizard spoke, "what I say is law. You can't go against me, and what I tell you to do, you will do. Now, tell me, who is your master?"

"I have no master, I am free!" she said, and just as quickly fell the floor in pain.

For several minutes she writhed in pain, as Manheim punished her. Then he'd let her go, ask the same question again, only for the scene to repeat. This went on for hours, till the Changeling fell unconscious. With her not being of anymore use to him, he sent her to the oil lamp to recuperate, for their next session.

Boris stumbled back to his room. He had quite the night getting soddenling drunk. There was a barkeep having to restock his alcohol stock, as Boris had managed to clear out most of it. There was also a human that had a huge bar tab, having bet the Dwarf he couldn't drink that much.

At first Boris was boisterous, and even got glares from the night guards. However, he soon fell quiet. Memories unbidden came to him, and he felt the need for more drink. Memories of darkness, pain and evil red eyes. Boris couldn't find a bottle fast enough.

Years ago, he was a Dwarf fighter in a tunnel underneath leading to the Underdark. A place of evil and full of things that would eat you or kill you without a thought. Sunlight never reached its depths, and many tunnels that kept going deep enough, eventually came to it. Monsters abound, but he would have taken all those monsters over the others.

The Underdark also was home to the Drow. Elves who had sided with the demonic Lloth against Corellon and the other goodly gods. They were cursed with skin as black as ebon, forever marking them as enemies to all that is good. There were the exceptions, like Drizzt Do'Urden, but most were only good for putting an axe into.

Under Mithrall Hall a young Dwarf went to his king's call for battle. He left behind his wife and child, sure in their safety. Together with his brothers and sisters in arms, he fought the evil of the Drow. He saw his king, Bruenor take down the Matron Baenre. He like the others cheer their king.

Then the young Dwarf returned home, only he had no home. The house remained, but his child lay slaughtered. He ran screaming, only to find his wife impaled on a spear, stuck to ground. Both were gone, and he wept. She had been a better warrior than he, and he had convinced her to stay behind. The reason was to protect their child. He wanted the best warrior in the family to keep the child safe.

Now, both laid dead, and all because of the Drow. Since then, the Dwarf had a deep-seated hatred for anything Evil. Whether they be Drow, Trolls, Goblins, Orcs, or any of the assorted evil races. This extended to those born of them, like Tieflings. They all had to pay for the death of that Dwarf that day, leaving only Boris behind.

"I'm sorry Dagna," Boris wept in his drunken stupor.

Soon sleep overtook him, and he knew no pain. At least physical, because nightmares replaced memories. All night he was tortured with being unable to reach his family. Sometimes it was like reality, where he got home too late. Other times, he got there just as the Drow were slaughtering his family. Nothing he did ever changed the outcome, and those responsible always disappeared before he could place an axe into their heads. In short, Boris didn't sleep well that night.


	18. Chapter 18

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XVIII

The next day dawned with the silent arrival of the rising sun. The people of Altamar woke to the usual sounds that dotted their daily lives. Bells rang on ships docked, raising their resting crews. Criers went door to door, waking inhabitants and signaling the start to a workday. Then came the sounds of work begin, some with song, others with curses. From the castle trumpets proclaimed the coming day, like an angelic herald.

Lord Wallace's people roused him where he had fallen asleep, at his war table. Soon he changed into fresh clothing and called for the Challengers. He had a job for them, one that his city guard couldn't do. They had come through for Altamar and though they probably deserved a rest, his city needed them once more.

While he waited for them to arrive, he turned to his steward, "Are there any callers that can be seen while we wait for our heroes?"

"Well, milord, there were several petitioners from around the city, but it seems they all have removed their petitions," the steward said, her voice full of disbelief. "However, the guard has a slew of new prisoners to be judged."

Lord Wallace laughed, "This begs more than a passing note. What are the specifics?"

The steward poured the notes, "According to the night watch guard lieutenant, several prisoners were brought in during the night. Three cutpurses were brought in, which matched the descriptions left by seven mugging victims. A body was recovered from an attempted assassination of a local moneylender. Our guards are investigating, but it appears the body has ties to organized crime."

"You don't say, the moneylender?" Lord Wallace asked.

"As far as the guard can ascertain, he was a good lender. He never loaned money out that intentionally kept people from paying back," the steward read off some quick notes. "Then we have some drunken sailors and tavern patrons, all cooling their heels in the cells below. Night watch says they had reports of a brawl, but all the participants were stopped by an unknown fighter.

Odd, it seems the reports for each of those has an unknown fighter. This fighter is supposed to be fierce as a dragon, and spit fire from his hands. That sounds familiar."

"It does, doesn't it. Well, make sure the magistrate takes care of the more violent offenders. Release the brawlers, no need to take up valuable court time for such stupidity."

"Will do," the steward took some notes. "He does realize you gave him the night off, right?"

Lord Wallace chuckled to himself, "I don't think that one takes days off. Then again, that might be how he relaxes. Monks are an odd bunch."

The Challengers found Kirann exercising in the town's center. A fountain sent water through the air behind him, and bits of water vapor infused the air. Behind the monk, were giggling children, all mimicking his movements. Every so often he'd look over at them, and they'd all squeal and hide. Kirann would then turn and pretend not to see them scurry back out.

"Look at the wee ones," Boris said. "Our monk friend has such a following."

Manheim chimed in, "Figures he'd be playing with children, he's got the intelligence of one."

"One more word from you, and I'll turn you into a frog," Lorinda said, holding her head in pain.

Boris laughed, "Little lady can't hold her liquor. I've seen that look before."

"Silence, Dwarf!" Lorinda's look would have shot the Dwarf with daggers. "Everything is entirely too loud."

Boris bust out in an even bigger gut busting chuckle, which made Val groan in sympathy pain. However, Kirann stopped his exercises. He waved to the children, before heading to his friends. The excited cries of the young ones brought joy to him, but it looked like one friend was in pain.

Putting a hand on the Elf druid, he let a little of his celestial ancestry. She felt a warmth go through her, and soon the headache completely disappeared. Instead of the usual weariness that followed a headache lifting, it felt as if she had never suffered from a hangover. He turned and went back to the fountain, finishing his morning exercises.

"Kirann, Lord Wallace has summoned us to the castle," Lorinda said. "Thank you by the way."

"Anytime," he said with simple wave. "Let's get going."

They found Leilani sitting outside the Temple of Mielikki. A contented look was upon her face, though none could see it for her pulled hood. She heard the coming of the others, and quickly collected herself. She met them, but still taken back as Kirann gave her a friendly pat to her shoulder. He explained the summons, and before she knew it, she was following them.

Luckily, she got a slight reprieve as a hurried merchant excitedly came up and literally fell over himself. He begged and pleaded for Kirann to follow him, almost fawning over him. To the monk's credit, he looked supremely embarrassed, and was trying to soothe the man. Finding it impossible to send the man away, he agreed to follow. The rest of the Challengers were very curious by this, so they chose to follow.

The jubilant man led them through a maze of side streets, avenues and alleyways till they stood in front of a modest shop. The large glazed glass windows held many treasures, collected from all across Faerun. Masks were fitted about on shelves, cloaks were held by hooks, with tiny knickknacks scattered amongst a diverse array of tables and cabinets.

He led them in, where a comely woman lit up with an inner brightness. She rushed over and managed a feat no enemy had ever done, she tackled the monk in an unbreakable hug. Slowly he managed to untangle himself, gingerly, respectively. Both man and woman spoke a million words a minute, to the effect everyone except for Kirann was confused. Thankfully the exuberant energy started to wane to more manageable levels.

"You are the hero my husband told me about last night," the woman said. "You saved his life from an evil man."

The monk tried to explain, "I was at the right place, the right time. No more, no less."

Only to fail, as the man interjected, "I told you he was so humble! Like an angel of vengeance, he swooped down as that knave had his knife at my throat. I remember being terrified, thinking I'd never see my beloved again. I prayed, prayed so hard to any god that was listening."

"Oh, how they listened!" The woman continued. "My poor Marty was delivered. This man, he tells me, comes out of the night on fire. The assassin turned and was instantly burnt to a crisp!"

"That's a little exaggerated," Kirann tried to correct the story, but it was for not.

Raven nudged Val, "That sounds like him. Smiting evil doers with the touch of his pinky!"

"I know, why I think I recall him wrestling a Balor to the ground. Then complained he failed to do it fast enough, because he had a cold!" Val unsuccessfully tried to stifle a laugh.

"Ye durned humans, why didn't ye come get me for some skull bashin'?" Boris was annoyed.

"Oh my, I didn't realize," the man said, starting to fall to his knee. "My lord, I apologize for not recognizing.."

"Hold!" Kirann had to stop this now. "I am no deity, just a man. I'm grateful I could help you, but I need no exaggerations."

For the next hour, the couple entertained the Challengers. By then the guards were looking for them, but they couldn't pull themselves away from the couple. For the others, it was a rare even to see Kirann so uncomfortable. He liked helping, but found the extended limelight a little too bright. Considering what he was, the others found that a bit humorous.

Eventually he did escape, but not before the couple wrangled two things out of him. One was a promise to return, for a hearty dinner. The other was to choose a reward from the gathered artifacts in the wife's shop. The monk searched around, taking his time, eventually finding one item that he knew would be of use. Picking up the mask, he thanked the couple again, and made an expeditious flight. Behind him were his amused party, including a curious Drow.

Leilani caught up with him, passing by Raven and Val, who were kindly ribbing the monk. He held the mask, his reward in one hand, looking at it while navigating the city. The item precious because of the people who had given it to him, but also because it would help one of those with him.

"Here, think about what you want to look like," Kirann placed the mask inter Leilani's hands. "The inscription says it'll take that shape."

Leilani tried to hand the item back to him, "I can't accept this, it is your reward."

"For you, it'll help more," he explained. "My reward to your gift. The gift to walk without the need of a hood. I call it a good trade."

Leilani looked like she was going to refuse, but Val interrupted her, "Our leader isn't going to take 'no' for answer. Probably the only reason he didn't vanish into thin air to begin with."

The Drow looked between them, her hood shifting just slightly. Taking in a deep breath, she let out a long sigh. Bringing up the mask, she put it to her face and tied the string. Beneath her hood, the ebon skin of a Drow vanished, and the tan skin of a Wood Elf appeared. Purple irises became green, and silver white hair became brown with lighter highlights.

Then Leilani took the biggest risk of all and moved her hood back. Waiting on baited breath, were her new allies. The cheer they gave her almost sent her hood back up, but she endured. To them she was a beautiful Elf, and only one knew of her true heritage as a Dark Elf. He though slyly gave her a nod, before moving the group forward.

Captain Reynold met them, and gave the group a rather stern look. They had kept Lord Wallace waiting, which was bad form. However, you wouldn't have thought that from the way the leader of Altamar greeted them. Warmly he led the group to his map room, where all the maps laid out with markers of Orc bands. All thanks to the intelligence retrieved by these heroes.

"My friends, Altamar is in need of you again," Lord Wallace told them all. "Thanks to you, we know of the coming battle. The why, when and who is behind it though are not known. I must give you the more dire of quests. Infiltrate the Orcish lines, find out what they are after and then return that back to us."

"That's a suicide mission!" Manheim complained. "Which army is going to follow us in?"

"It'll be just us," Kirann correctly guessed. "A small group can get in and out, without calling attention."

"He's right," Captain Reynolds agreed. "While you are out there, we'll be bringing together a grand coalition. The Orcs won't know what hit them."

"Not to be a wet blanket," Manheim growled again, "but why do you need us to go out then? Sounds like you have sound plan."

"Because we don't know enough," Raven said. "We may think there are only a thousand Orcs, only to be met with fifty thousand. They could be coming for a hidden artifact, and in our haste to defend the city, let it fall it into their hands."

"In other words, we could win the battle only to lose the war," Val said somberly.

Kirann looked at his group, then turned to the Lord of Altamar, "We'll do it."


	19. Chapter 19

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XIX

The land area between Altamar and the surrounding towns had changed. Creatures normally active were missing. The air held itself, like a person holding their breath at the sight of a predator. Worse were the carrion birds circling the sky, as if salivating at the expectation of a grand feast.

The Challengers made their way through this, moving on foot. They had left the wagon back in Alatmar, thinking the roads would be too dangerous. How right they were, was shown by the amount of broken, ransacked merchant wagons scattered about. Some were burned, some were hacked apart, and most had signs of battle all over them. Blood stained the ground, dripping from between the boards of the wagons.

Taking a more covert approach, they entered into many pieces of land where farmers normally inhabited. What they found were deserted houses, or ones boarded up, shut in from the outside. Barns were locked up tight, and an awful stench reached out to assault them. The inhabitants were trying to protect their livestock. However, without cleaning, eventually their livestock would become sick.

The group scavenged some eggs from one farm, leaving two gold coins behind. That would more than pay for the taken eggs, and hopefully help the farmers afterwards. Those farms where the livestock hadn't been shut in, the Challengers found the remains of butchered animals left to rot in the daylight. On one farm they found a whole family slaughtered, complete with Orcish spears as the means of their demise.

Val looked sadly on the family, imagining what their life had been like. The twisted visages of pain locked on their faces, forever marked their deaths as horrid events. Kirann came up behind her, and guided her off to the side. Together he and Walton took wood from the fences and the Orc spears, made a bed for the bodies. Then he set it on fire, giving them a funeral pyre, since they didn't have time to do an actual burial.

Though they couldn't see the Orcish lines, the Challengers knew they had crossed into them. Why the Orcs were hiding their numbers, they couldn't fathom. Tactics from Orcs, at least more advanced tactics, were almost unheard of. They wondered what came next, intricate siege machines and formations?

At night, was a different story. The Challengers found several hiding places, and waited on watch as the Orcs moved. Then, they saw thousands of Orcs marching in lock step. Their numbers reach across horizon, and the noise from their speech filled the night. Each held crudely made weapons, except for the leaders. Those Orcs had finely made steel weapons. Where they had gotten them, the group could only guess.

After three days and three nights, they still hadn't found the answers they thought. Lorinda had backtracked the Orcish footprints, back to where they had been hiding. Orders or other intelligence weren't left. Most difficult, was the thought that most of the Orcs' orders were verbal only. Yet, the Challengers weren't ready to give up just yet.

Further into the lines they went, and the way became more hazardous the further they went. Eventually they ran into a small group of about ten Orcs, and had to fight. The fight wasn't easy, but it wasn't difficult. Their wounds were light, but it was at that point, that Kirann began to reconsider. Maybe it would be better to send most of them back, and to continue on with just him, with a couple of others.

That thought didn't go over well, except with Manheim. The wizard was all for turning back and running as quickly as possible, to the safety of Altamar's walls. The others weren't of that mind though. Leilani, being the newest member, watched the others discuss.

There was a familiarity to them, a sense of groupness that permeated beyond strangers. She wouldn't call them friends, but more like comrades, maybe closer to family for some. Each depended on the other, and each had respect for the others. For the most part this was true for all the Challengers. She wasn't part of that feeling yet, despite how warmly Kirann had welcomed her.

Leilani was the outsider still, but she wasn't out in the cold. Lorinda had warmed a bit towards her, while Raven and Val made her feel welcome. The monk was the one who made her feel like she belonged there. This was all very different for her, so different than what she expected.

She had her mask off, and her hood up. While her appearance changed, the mask still looked like one on her face. So, she couldn't see as well with it on, as with her own eyes. That and she liked the feel of the air on her face. Blake's influence on her, even to this day, was to enjoy the natural world for the wonder it was. She could almost hear his voice on the wind, and that put her at ease.

With the Challengers voting to continue on, they continued one and into more Orc patrols. Three more fell, before they found a fight that none wanted to fight. This wasn't a normal patrol, but rather a unit of about fifty. Marching in formation these Orcs would have the advantage; hit and run tactics would alert too many more.

Instead they kited around the unit and continued traipsing through the woods. It was then that they came across a small cabin, bathed in darkness. This wasn't a trick of shadows, or that someone had painted the cabin a dark color. It was as if the color had been drained of it and the surrounding area. Even the grass around it was dead and gray.

The Challengers were repulsed by it. Not a single one had a desire to stay, instead they all wanted to run screaming from the cabin. Yet, something told Kirann that their answers would be found there. So, he went on, giving the others a chance to hang back. Reluctantly they continued on behind him.

Against the backdrop of the cabin, Kirann's fullness was more pronounced. Instead of just seeming to be more full of color, he was bursting with it. With him seemingly to exuding the color, his compatriots looked like he normally did. Which only became more obvious the closer to the dark cabin.

Feet away from the cabin, a scream pierced the air. Weapons drawn, they went on, but watching each other's backs. More screams, unearthly in their origin, came from the cabin, just as they reached the door. Despite their misgivings, the group gathered into a breeching formation. Kirann waited for a moment, and then kicked forward, smashing the door of the cabin to pieces.

The sight that greeted them caught them off guard. Bound to the opposite wall, was a succubus. Her wings were nailed to the wall, and her arms were tied above her. She rested on her knees, with a metal bar between her thighs and calves. Her head hung, before rearing up to scream again in pain. Her long hair fell forward, and one of her horns had been broken crudely.

The source of the torture solidified before them. A phantasm raised a hand and pulled on the nearby chain. Once more the succubus cried out in pain, and this time the phantasm lashed out with an ethereal whip. A cruel slash opened up the fiend's cheek, and she cried again. The phantasm let the succubus crumpled, before physically grabbing the fiend's hair and pull her head back.

"You had one job, Jaslyn," the phantasm said. "You were to find those who would bear The Liberator."

The succubus painfully said, "I gave you the name."

"Why yes you did," the phantasm gleefully said as it hit her. "Asmodeus was very pleased. His enemy is known to him, now. His thanks were to allow me my access to you."

"Why?" Jaslyn the Succubus looked up, immense pain in her eyes.

The phantasm strucker her several times, "Because your usefulness to him is over. Mine is just beginning. I will take physical form again, and you will bear me into the world. I only need to break you."

Kirann had heard enough, "Now, Walton!"

The monk was already running, flames spreading across his body. The phantasm was stunned, and then it as hit with holy light. It felt the immediate response to run, as the aura coming off the paladin put fear into it. However, the phantasm resisted and struck out against the paladin. It wasn't expecting the flame strike from Leilani. It howled in pain, turned to face the sorceress when Kirann struck it.

The nearly incorporeal monster shrieked and threw the monk back. Burning holes were left where the monk had hit it. Another holy strike from the paladin, and the creature hissed in pain. It struck him, sending Walton to his knee, but he remained upright. Raven struck the phantasm with her eldritch magic, while Lorinda sent out healing spells. Both Kirann and Walton felt the cool, refreshing spell of healing wash over them.

Kirann sent a cone of flame out, causing the phantasm more pain. Leilani shot out a series of magical missiles, all penetrating the phantasm's self. It hissed again, and thought better about sticking around and fighting the intruders. It started to run, when it felt itself held. The creature knew genuine fear then, and saw the holy blade arcing towards it.

With a flash of light, the phantasm exploded. The darkness started to recede, and the Challengers took a moment to collect themselves. None of their wounds were severe, but they would know they were in a fight. Val, Boris and Manheim turned their attention to the restrained succubus. Though Manheim did take a moment to collect the ectoplasm of the defeated phantasm.

"Just how I like my demons, strung up and waiting for the axe!" Boris hefted his axe up, readying the killing blow.

"Hold!" Kirann called out.

The Dwarf turned to the monk, "By the gods man, what is wrong with you! It's a fiend! Don't tell me that you have a bleeding heart for them too?!"

"Were you listening to the interrogation, you hairy nincompoop?" Lorinda sighed. "She has information that might pertain to our mission."

"Well get to interrogatin' her, because I'm a killin' her," Boris set his axe down.

Raven moved forward, looking to see how badly the succubus was hurt. She saw the cuts, bruises and lacerations from the phantasm's ministrations. Worse, she could see two horrid stumps. Had the phantasm really ripped her wings from her back? It was an awful injury, and one that made Raven feel for the fiend.

"Do your worst," Jaslyn the Succubus growled.

Kirann borrowed one of Val's daggers and cut the rope holding the succubus up. Jaslyn fell forward, barely catching herself. Handing the dagger back, he went over and removed the metal bar. The fiend rolled over, clutching her arms and pulled her legs up. Her eyes spoke of the immense pain she was in, but Kirann knew better than trying to use his limited healing on her. With her fiendish nature, his celestial healing was more likely to harm her than heal her.

Leilani draped a dirty blanket she had found, around the succubus, "Can you answer a few questions?"

"You..you, want to know about The Liberator?" the succubus said weakly. "Couldn't convince one of you for a kiss, could I?"

"No, but we aren't going to harm you," Kirann said. "Does this 'Liberator' have anything to do with the Orcs?"

Jaslyn nodded, "Yes, the person behind it all, this 'Boss,' promised the Orcs a kingdom. One like the Many Arrows to the north. All he is asking for is The Liberator or their death."

"Why?" Raven asked.

Jaslyn weakly smiled, "It is said that The Liberator would rise up in power, and would change the course of Faerun forever. Asmodeaus fears The Liberator, because it is prophesized that they could kill him. Evil gods from across the pantheon fear this person, as his fate is not written."

"The phantasm said you had found the parents of this Liberator?" Kirann's mind was already thinking ahead. They might have a chance to save this family and the kingdoms, but there would be limited time.

The succubus nodded, seeming to regain a little strength as she spoke, "Clark and Kennison DuVall. One is a smith, the other a maker of jewelry. One wouldn't think their child is one to change the world."

"How are you sure then?" Val asked.

The succubus laughed, "Even in the womb, I could feel its untapped power within. No other being that I'm aware, has that much untapped power."

"I can see capturing it, was this 'Boss' planning on trying to turn the child?" Kirann asked.

"You are wiser than you know," Jaslyn nodded. "Yes, their plan is to twist this Liberator into a Conqueror and flood Faerun with blood. Then the Gods of the good will fear, and ultimately destroyed."

"I see," Kirann said. "What do you know of the Orcish numbers and positions?"

Jaslyn smiled, "For my freedom, I'll give you everything."

"We can't let her live!" exclaimed Boris. "She's evil, and would suck your soul out given the chance."

"She also has information that we need to save Altamar, and to save these people," Raven said. "How can we be sure that you won't betray us?" she said towards the succubus.

"I can't go back to the burning hells, it's apparent that I'll be delivered to the phantasm you just destroyed," Jaslyn said. "I'll have to provide something for the ability to remain, and at least one of you is incapable of being tempted by me it seems."

"Your true name," Kirann said. "Vow on your true name to not act against the interests of Altamar, to protect its people and be completely honest with us."

Jaslyn sat shocked, but nodded, "You do not know the price you ask for."

"I know it keeps you safe, and the people safe from you," Kirann said.

She nodded, "True. I will swear this, but only in front of you and her." The succubus pointed towards Raven. "The others are all too keen on the knowledge, while you two seem to only want it for the said reason."

"I object! I'd rather end you then have your unnatural stain on this plane!" Lorinda growled.

The succubus smiled, "But how fitting would it be, for those pillaging your forests to be lured away by a siren's call? How many evil doers would I drain at your command, all to protect your people? Many I see, but I can't see the Aasimar's want. The other's mind is open to me, and her desires are most mundane."

"It'll be fine, Lorinda," Kirann said. "This will complete our mission, and I"ll have Raven to watch my back."

The druid nodded, and herded everyone outside. She gave a final, glaring look at the succubus before closing the door. She did it a little too hard, as the door slammed shut and the windows rattled in the cabin. Instead of looking smug, Jaslyn looked exhausted.

"She is not the one I was worried about, but sending him out alone would have caused too much friction," Jaslyn said. "Your druid friend is pure of heart, but make no mistake power over life and death can corrupt."

"I understand," the Monk bent down. "Let's finish this, so we can get search for that family."

Jaslyn smiled despite herself, "You are such the hero, how proud your guardian must be. I, Jaslynawynn, by my true name swear to protect the people of Altamar, not work against their interests and be completely honest with Kirann and Raven of the Challengers."

Kirann nodded, "That will do it. Let's get you back to Altamar."


	20. Chapter 20

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XX

The Challengers raced back to Altamar. Though the succubus was wounded, she kept up with them. Her color had begun to fade, though and her breathing was more ragged. The damage done to her, was affecting her fiercely. Wrapped in the dirty blanket, the fiend began to shiver from the cold.

To keep her alive, the group stopped by one of the raided farmhouses, on the way back. There they collected what little food remained, and some clothing for Jaslyn. They camped for the night, before making haste early in the morning. By that time, the succubus' color had begun to improve, and she looked better. Though, the twitching stubs of her wings still hinted at her continued pain.

Behind them, the Orcs began to conquer the lands they left. The lines advancing nearly as quickly as the Challengers could move. Any slower and the Orcish lines would have overtaken them, with the good chance of the Challengers being forced to fight and run. As it was, they barely made it back to more friendly lands. A sense of elation spread as they saw Altamaran patrols.

With the city in sight, Val noted that Marshal Goodman was still camped outside. His entourage of guards had increased by four more, and all wanted to drag her back. She made a note and hid behind the rest of the group. The last thing she wanted, was to have the marshal's attention on her.

Kirann, Raven, Walton and Lorinda formed a circle around Jaslyn. This left Val, Boris, Manheim and Leilani bringing up the rear. The monk stayed with the succubus to keep her safe, and to make sure she kept her promise. As such when the gate fell, he quickly turned to see several guards fighting the mechanism. Separated by the heavy iron portcullis, the remainder of his group was stuck.

The guards on the gate, fought and fought, but the gears and chains for the portcullis seemed to be frozen. No matter how hard they turned the mechanism, or tried to manually lift the gate, it stayed put. Calls were sent out for more guards, but Kirann had an instantly feeling of dread. In the pit of his stomach, ice formed and why happened next.

Against the metal of the portcullis, the four instantly froze. Their faces stuck in expressions of surprise, they became just as frozen as the gate mechanism. Kirann reached for them, but was pushed back by an invisible wall. He stumbled back, only to see a swirling vortex open up. Then came the main act.

Marshal Goodman and his soldiers rushed up, picking up the frozen body of Val. They carried her through the portal, two men treating her like lumber. The rest of the guards followed suit, and finally the wizard did. Hidden as one of the people milling about the gate, the wizard had hidden in plain sight. As he entered the portal, the wizard was thrown forward. A sunfire blast had hit the wizard and Kirann was rewarded with the man's brief cry of pain.

The marshal was the last one through, and he entered keeping his eyes on the Sunsoul Monk. Kirann gave him a look that promised justice would be dealt, and the marshal felt a twinge of fear. Adventurers were known to have a different idea of justice, one that tended to be more like vengeance. So be it, he had followed the lawful orders of a noble in his city.

With the wizard gone, the portcullis was released and minutes later the remaining Challengers were too. By that time, Lord Wallace had been brought out and Wizard Robertson was with him. They both noticed the incensed monk and warlock. The paladin was rightly outraged, and the druid looked just slightly less than murderous. Kirann and Raven both looked like they could take on a whole army by themselves.

"What happened here?" Lord Wallace asked. "What did you find on your mission?"

Walton went to speak, but Kirann beat him to it, "This succubus says the person behind the Orcs, is after an unborn child."

"This child is prophesized to be a liberator, fighting against the dark gods," Raven continued on. "We brought her back, because she is willing to trade information for her safety."

"The one she served betrayed her," Kirann said. "Jaslyn has name sworn to help us. Wizard Robertson, you can question her, and she'll cooperate. We need to go after Val."

"What happened with her?" Lord Wallace asked.

"That marshal kidnapped her with the help of a powerful wizard," Walton told the lord. "Kirann, I don't want to leave a comrade behind. However, we need to find this family, they are in trouble."

"What family?" Lord Wallace was hoping they were close, because none of the other nearby towns had gathered their forces yet. There was news that several bands of sellswords were headed from Baldurs Gate and Neverwinter. Luskan hadn't responded back yet.

"The DuValls," Kirann said. "Luckily Lorinda and I think we know this family."

"Yes, your grace," Lorinda nodded. "They lived in the town next to my Circle and Kirann's monastery. We were planning on heading there after handing the succubus off to you."

"I do apologize that I can't send anyone with you," Lord Wallace hoped he didn't sound as cold as he felt. "With the Orcs advancing, and lack of support from the other towns, my people are stretched thin."

The monk didn't seem bothered by this, "We will get her back."

Now Lord Wallace did have to say something, something he knew was going to upset the monk. He didn't want to, but he had to look at the bigger picture. While the Challengers only had to worry about each other and their own welfare, he had to think about his town's welfare. His town needed the forces from the town of Lord Byron, something that could be jeopardized by the Challengers rushing in to fight.

"I need you to keep things civil, we need their support," Lord Wallace said, his throat drying up and the urge to gag present. "I hate to ask this of you, but my people need their help."

The Challengers looked at their leader, watching his face. They looked for the slightest sign that he was going to lash out. Instead they saw a nod of understanding, but also knew that was it. His stance was just as defiant as it had been, after Val had been taken. Lord Wallace's guards must have seen it as well, as they moved closer to him.

"I will rescue her from a fate unfair," he promised.

With that he turned, and walked away with Walton and Boris. The direction they went were to the stables, and where their cart and horses were kept. Leilani explained to Wizard Robertson about the promises Jaslyn had made. He promised her that he'd be careful and keep the succubus away from anyone she could feed off of. Oddly, she was very forthcoming and soon they had very good intelligence on the Orcish horde.

The Challengers left soon after, with Manheim complaining that he needed a rest. He wasn't happy with the blanket and rolled sleeping mat, laid out on the wagon's bed for him. Still, he ended up taking the rest. Lorinda and Leilani took advantage to rest up some as well. After a few hours, they would switch places with the ones who had remained awake.

Wyverns Rest came into view, and the group saw soldiers on the march. The small town had sent forces after all. As they rode by, the mayor saw them and waved in recognition. They only stopped to let the horses feed and drink, knowing they would need rest as well. After a few hours rest, the horses were back on the road, pulling the wagon. The monk had put a hand on each one, sending a small amount of healing to each.

He hated to push the horses this much, but Val was in danger. That was something that he couldn't let stand. One of his own, in peril, but not for a goodly reason. He was glad though, that the rest of the Challengers had followed him. It was comforting that they too, felt she was worth fighting for. Kirann would fight for his family, blood or not.

"Let me out of here!" Val screamed from her cell.

Marshal Goodman and his people had thrown her in here. Then they left her, in complete silence and darkness. All she could hear was the rats scurrying around, and the dripping of water from a far-off cell. Immediately her heart raced and old fears resurfaced in her head. Ones she thought long forgotten.

"My friends will come for me!" she screamed out into the darkness. "Let me out!"

"Quiet, Thief," a dark and malicious voice oozed. "There is no escape from here."

"We'll see about that, who are you?" Val asked as she looked around her cell.

The voice seemed amused, "I see all, and I see that you are mine to do with. Do not worry, Lord Byron was absolute in wanting you in one piece. He did say I could have a little fun though."

Val went to the floor, convulsing as intense pain coursed through her body. For several agonizing seconds, the Half-Elf felt like all her whole body was on fire. Every nerve screamed out in pain, but she couldn't force the air out of her lungs to do so. The electrical current through her body, had stopped all muscle movement. Then it was gone, and she breathed in a sharp breath.

"Oh! You poor, poor welp. How'd that feel?" the voice mocked her. "Your cell has been warded. Try any of your thieving tactics, and you get shocked. Try to pick the lock, you get shocked. Try to bend the bars, more shocking. Electrifying isn't it?"

Val pulled herself up, "Y..You're enjoying my pain."

"Why yes, little thief I am. Lord Byron pays me well, but even better is the amount of subjects he gives me," the voice oozed out again. "Do you know what the record is, how long a prisoner lasts before going mad? Three weeks. My record to break someone is two. I hope to make that a week with you, once Lord Byron I finished with you. Then again, he may want to break you himself. The pity as I'd lose the ability to destroy you myself."

Val snarled back, "This isn't going to end the way you think it will."

"So you say," the voice laughed again.

Marshal Goodman had left guards, expecting just what they saw. A lone wagon, pulled by two farm horses, came rolling up. Dust kicked up into the air, causing the wagon to be seen from quite a ways out. The guards signaled for others to come, expecting trouble.

This gave the farmer coming into town quite a fright, being greeted with fifteen guards. Their weapons at the ready, they ransacked the rear of the wagon, tossing the cover. All they found were several buckets of produce, and two cages with baby pigs inside. What they didn't find were warriors being on rescuing their friend, so they let the farmer continue on.

Behind the group of guards, several peasants walked into town. Their long walking sticks, and full cloaks gave them balance and protection from the sun. Under their hoods were probably dirty faces, and the large packs on their backs, meant they'd be smelly. None of the guards wanted to personally get close, as the stench would be overwhelming. The only good part, was that the merchants would have deal with them.

Another cart came towards town, but from one of the farms at the opposite side of town. The guards redistributed again, quickly tiring from running from one part of the city to another. This one too, was just a random farmer coming to sell their wares in town. Again and again the scene repeated the whole day. Meanwhile their target had slipped right past them, too bad for Lord Byron.

"We find Val, the family and then Lord Byron's wife," Kirann explained as he stripped off his peasant's cloak. "Then we bring them to the magistrate."

"Should we not just flee?" Manheim asked.

Leilani shook her head, "They'll just keep coming for her, and next time just try to kill Val."

"Right," Lorinda agreed. "We need this settled."

Manheim groaned, "Except it is! She's a thief, there is in all probability that she is guilty as sin. I say we're wasting time, there are Orcs about."

"We don't leave anyone behind," Kirann reminded him. "Let's find the marshal, he'll know where they took her."

They took off, trying to stick with alleyways and other areas not regularly patrolled by the guard. Without Val though, they were mainly guessing. Many times they'd turn a corner, only to miss a patrolling guard by a few feet. In short, they were very lucky that no fighting was started. It would be unwise to cause unwanted attention this early.

In the city center was the main guard barracks, and where Marshal Goodman had his office. It was located at the top of the building, which was the third floor. That though was only one problem. Being the guard barracks, there were guards everywhere. On the walls, patrolling around it and most importantly at the entrance gate. Kirann had a way around that, he just needed a distraction.

"What do they call this town?" Leilani asked while Kirann mused. "I get the strangest feeling from it."

Lorinda explained, "This whole area used to be known as Monk's Garden, a tongue in cheek reference to the monastery and circle here. Soon, as is civilizations' way, a small town formed. For generations it was fought over by three great powers, till the monks and druids were drawn into the conflict. They brought a peace to the land by forcing the three powers to rule in an oligarchy. The three powers eventually fell, but not their representatives here. Somewhere along the way, the place got the moniker of Tyrant's Fall. Which turned into Tyranfal."

"When one of the three oversteps, they are quickly replaced," Kirann jumped in. "Through fate or mortal involvement." He then let out a held breath, "Lorinda, can you and Leilani cause a disturbance to the south?"

The druid nodded, "Have any ideas?"

"Too close to the poor, so no fire," Kirann said. "Maybe some entangled guards, just to trip them up."

Lorinda gave him a please smile, "Don't worry, I'll have them falling all over themselves."

She and Leilani hurried through the city, towards the southern portion. Kirann and the others waited patiently, waiting for the ruckus to start. When the alarm was sounded, they were ready. Out of the guard barracks, a stream of guards rushed towards the calls for assistance. None looked to the alleyway nearby, or they would have seen the paladin in shining armor. They would also have seen a golden winged monk rising into the air.

Kirann covered the distance in a flash, and found the nearest window to rocket through. Tucking his wings around him, he landed in a roll. As he came up, he surprised a guard half out of armor. Her armored breastplate lay on the cloth mannequin, but her sword was still on her side.

"I mean you no harm," he said gently. "I came to speak to the marshal."

The guard pulled her sword, "Why not come through the front door then?"

"Because the Marshal and I have a misunderstanding," he replied. "Now, can you forget I was here?"

"No!" she went to strike, but found herself stuck.

The guard wanted to scream, fling her blade or slice through the golden winged person. However, she couldn't move, she was stunned. A warm feeling left her chest, and she realized that he had struck her palm first. Before she knew it, her arms were tied; her sword laid behind her. The courteous monk though, made sure she rested on her side. All she could think of though, was how embarrassing it was to be found like this.

Kirann moved through the hall, moving from room to room, till he found one that looked like the marshal's. He knew his time was short. The guard he left tied up, would eventually figure out that her sword was close enough, to cut through the rope. How long it would take, depended on how sharp her sword was.

The messy desk in front of him, showed the marshal to be a very busy man. A lot of work had piled up, while he was hunting Val in Altamar. The good news was several of the missives were from Lord Byron, all demanding that the thief be brought to him for interrogation. It was a good bet than, that is where she was. Still, he would rather have confirmation.

A sound coming from behind sent Kirann behind the desk. Marshal Goodman walked in, looking exhausted. He handed a bag of coins to the wizard from before, his arm in a sling and looking quite pained. Much to Kirann's relief, the marshal locked the door from the inside. He heard the man shuffle over, which was very different this is normal heel toe march.

Then Kirann heard steel being unsheathed and he growled a frustrated growl. His golden wings were still out, and he'd forgotten how much they let off ambient light, even during the day. So, he erupted from behind the desk and struck the marshal's sword arm. Caught off guard by the sudden attack, Marshal Goodman barely held onto his blade. As he swung back at the monk, his sword smacked into wall behind him. This room wasn't built for a sword duel. It was just perfect for hand to hand fighting.

Kirann led with two punches to the man's face, and one swift kick that took the marshal to his knees. Drawing upon his sunsoul monk teachings, he pulled a sunfire beam up to his hand, but held I there. The blinding, fiery light was inches from the marshal's face. This wasn't how he had wanted to do this.

"We should not be enemies, Marshal," Kirann said. "Where is Val?"

"Your order will excommunicate you for this!" Marshal Goodman admonished. "All for a thief! How are you going to explain this to your god?"

"Bring injustice to Light. Protect the innocent. Be the light against the darkness. These are vows I made to my order. They will be just fine with my decision, as Val meets two of those," Kirann quoted in a calm voice. "Is she at Lord Byron's estate?"

"You've seen the missives, you know she is," Marshal Goodman snarled. "You'll never retrieve her in time."

"We shall see," the monk said. "Apologies about this. Should I let one of your people know to come untie you?"

Kirann unlocked the door and opened it, leaving the marshal tied to his chair, but none worse for the wear. He then leapt out of the window and flew down, pulling his wings back in. The golden wings and glowing eyes would only hinder the plan from this point forward. He made his way back to the alley; were he had left the others. By now Lorinda and Leilani had returned, and the guard had raised the alarm in their barracks. He smiled at that, she had gotten out just fine.

"I don't think, I can ever get used to what you look like flying," Leilani said. "You do realize it is beautiful?"

"It is liberating," Kirann smiled. "Quickly, we need to make it to Lord Byron's house. That is where they are holding Val."

Lady Byron was pacing, locked in her room, again. Her husband had his guards outside, punishing her for giving to the poor. She had come from a family where charity was important, and she tried to keep the tradition going. To her, seeing the people healthy and happy, made her feel like she was doing good.

Her husband though, was adamantly against help of any type for the less fortunate. He found them to be sinful little bastards, and deserving of what they got. He saw himself as the epitome of perfection. All his accumulated wealth was because he was deserving of it, and those beneath him were just that, beneath him.

So, when he caught his wife and her charities, he punished her. When she continued on, he took more of her freedoms away. Now, she was basically a prisoner in what should be her home. Her only forms of contact were the guards and the help, that ran the house. She was kind to them, but still found herself extremely lonely. If her family knew, they would have sent someone, but that was another thing he had kept from her. She hadn't heard from her family in years.

Lady Beneficent Byron saw from her window, a man in gleaming armor. Probably another one of her husband's employees. He had a lot coming by recently, and she remembered them bringing in a bound figure recently. Her heart went out to the poor person who had crossed her husband. She had tried to help, only to be reminded by her husband that her role was to produce children. He hadn't reflected well when she had disagreed. The bruise on her face, was testament to that.

He didn't realize she had a plan. It was slow going because she wasn't allowed out of the room, but she was going to get her freedom. Then she'd expose him for the monster he was. How he had convinced her parents that he was a good match for her, was beyond her understanding. He was slick, a devil in a nobleman's guise.

A loud bang rocked the house, followed by the yells of her guards. Her doors bowed inward as something heavy hit them. A scream pierced the ruckus, and she heard ceramic breaking. From her wall came a grand crashing sound, and a sick thunk. Another scream cried out, and she recognized a window breaking. Outside, a flaming man landed hard and didn't move again.

Reaching for any weapon she could find, which were few thanks to her husband. She came back with a knitting needle, and she knew fear as her doors buckled inward again. They cracked with a thunderous announcement, as the doors flew open. There stood a motley assortment of people, all around them her fallen guards.

"Come with us if you want to be free," the leader said. His hand extended.

Down below in Lord Byron's dungeon, Val noticed her jailer was distracted. She took advantage by reached out, despite the shock and bringing the jailer back with her. The jailer screamed as the electrical shock hit, and both fell the ground writhing in pain. Val though pushed through it, having grown up with hardship and having traveled righting wrongs with the Challengers. She grabbed the key to her cell, which thankfully had de-spell for the ward.

Once outside, she pulled her jailer inside and locked the door. Only then did she realize the jailer was a scarred woman. Was she one of the victims of Lord Byron, or was she just of a like mind? Val would worry about that later, after she had escaped. She needed to get back to her friends, that was all she could think about. Everything ached, and she was hungry from being starved. Not to mention she was dying of thirst; she'd kill for a swig of water.

The good news was that the jailer had left her belongings nearby. They were apparently very sure that nobody could escape, or they would have put her belongings somewhere more secure. She wasn't going to leave that comment for them, instead it was time to be going. Now that she was out of the cell, she heard commotion coming from the door leading up. It was the only exit, so whomever got in her way was going to pay.

Blades readied, she watched as the door burst off its hinges and then her mouth dropped. One of the figures produced a light out of the air, letting her get a good look at them. It was her friends! They had come for her, and there in the lead was Kirann. Despite herself, tears fell down her face.

She ran at the monk and jumped onto him, hugging him tight. Raven was right there too, and Val pulled her into the hug too. Despite his shock, Kirann hugged her back, letting her know they were indeed real. Behind them, Lady Byron smiled despite all the carnage around her. They had come for her and their friend, and were intent on freeing them both.

"Are you okay?" Kirann asked.

Val, half mumbled, "Yeah. I'm okay."

"You sure? Do you need anything?" Raven asked, her voice betraying her.

Val smiled, "Water, water first, then food."

"Here is some water," Walton handed her his waterskin. "Listen Kirann, we can't hang out here for long. Someone is going to notice the battle here."

Kirann nodded, "You up to finishing this Val?"

"Damn straight!" Val stood up, feeling better now with a few swigs of water in her. "What's the plan?"

The three lords of Tyranfal were in deep discussion when Marshal Goodman burst in. He quickly went over what all had happened and withered under Lord Byron's gaze. The other two lords, Whitman and Windsor, were curious. A monk of the nearby monastery was not one they'd expect to just go crazy or attack for no reason.

"Lord Bryon, do you require a recess to deal with this matter?" Lord Whitman asked.

The doors leading to their chamber opened; walking in was a Half-Elf and behind her the rest of her friends. All were armed but one, but he didn't need a weapon. Behind them, terrified guards followed, weapons drawn.

"I believe we can end this now," Kirann exclaimed. "Lord Byron has charged my friend with crimes she is innocent of."

"Those are bold words, monk," Lord Whitman warned. "What evidence do you present?"

"Your honor," Raven said, "We bring Lady Beneficent Byron, as a witness. She has been kept imprisoned by her husband, so that he may come after the accused, Val."

Lord Windsor spoke, "Is this true Lady Byron?"

"Yes, Lord Windsor, my husband has kept me under lock and key for giving to charities," Lady Byron confirmed. "He has gone after this young woman, because she guided me to those who would help."

"Silence woman! You can not testify against me. Now, think about your next words, carefully," Lord Byron stood from his seat and pointed directly at his wife. "I am not forgiving."

"Lord Byron," Lord Windsor warned. "Wives are only prohibited from testifying, but only in certain circumstances. Mainly we can't make her testify against you, it sounds like she is doing it of her free will."

"Continue, Lady Byron," Lord Whitmore prodded. "I'm interested in why one of neighbor monks has seen fit to attack our guards and your house."

"Your honors, lords," Lady Byron settled her nerves. "My husband has accused this Half-Elf of stealing from him, but it was my charity she is being accused as stealing. I knew Val, from the tavern in town. She told me several holy orders and other charities I could give to. My husband is unwilling to believe I'd conceal my identity, and give anonymously. So, he's accused her of stealing from him. Then when I stood up to him, he locked me in our house."

"You're Benny!" Val exclaimed. "I was trying to figure out how I got pulled into this mess."

"My apologies, Val," Beneficent felt guilty at having drawn the good-hearted thief in. "If I had known.."

"No, you are doing good work," Val smiled at Lady Byron. "Because of you, those not as well off has hope. I wouldn't had it any other way."

Lord Byron meanwhile was turning a volcanic red, "I want my wife and that thief arrested immediately and put to death!"

"Lord Byron! Control yourself!" Lord Windsor exclaimed. "Lady Byron has leveled several serious charges. How do you respond?"

"She is a woman, a fool, and is mine to do with as I please!" Lord Byron rose, yelling to all those around him. "Marshal Goodman, arrest them!"

"Stand down, Marshal," Lord Whitman sharply said. "Lord Byron, sit down! These charges are serious. Even if she is your wife, imprisoning her in your house is a crime. Your false testimony, claiming this thief is stealing from you, to us is a crime. What defense do you have?"

"I need no defense," Lord Byron snarled. "None of them matter, only my word does."

"I'm afraid it does," Lord Windsor said. "Though the law only protects your wife, this Half-Elf is a person too."

Kirann chose this moment to throw in one more wrench, "Lord Byron had her kidnapped from Altamar. She was aiding the city in its fight against an Orcish horde. The same horde that will bring danger to Tyranfal."

"I think we have heard enough!" Lord Windsor growled. "Did you really have this woman kidnapped from another city? You know we have no extradition with Altamar. This could cause an incident."

"Especially because she was on a mission for Lord Wallace," Kirann piped in again.

Lord Windsor looked at the monk, but the sight wasn't one of anger. Instead the look of disaster was upon him. This wouldn't be just an incident, but wars had been declared for far less. Tyranfal wasn't small like Wyverns Rest, but it wasn't bigger than Altamar. An army from there could do much damage to this city.

"Lord Wallace is only looking for her quick return, and understands this may be a rogue element," Walton delicately said.

"All charges against Val should be dropped," Kirann said. "Lady Byron should be protected, and forces should be sent to Altamar. We are in need of assistance with the Orcs there."

"I will have you all flogged and burned," Lord Byron reached for his waist and pulled out a dagger. "Die, you insignificant peons."

He threw the dagger, and though it was true to his aim, it never hit. Kirann reached up, plucked the dagger from the air and returned it back to Lord Byron. The noble felt pain shoot through his shoulder, and he spun as he fell. He landed hard, which pushed the dagger further into his shoulder. Lord Byron screamed in pain, before roughly being lifted up by guards.

"Lord Byron, you are herby stripped of your title and rank," Lord Windsor proclaimed. "Your wife, as the next in line legally, will take over for you. All charges against Val the Rogue are dismissed, and she has our utmost apologies. Any transgressions perpetrated by these heroes, in their search for the truth, are also pardoned. Monk, I can speak for the others, when I say Altamar will have aid from Tyranfal. Marshal Goodman, send for our guard captain, immediately."

"Thank you, your honor," Kirann smiled as he bowed. "Now, we need to continue on our quest."

"Before you go," Lord Whitman stopped them. "Val, we owe you a debt. You have been hounded by agents of our city."

Val sighed, very tired and wanting to sleep, "I just want to be left alone. This has all been very trying."

Lord Windsor nodded his agreement, "Very well. Marshal Goodman, you will bring this young lady the Blades of Freedom and Shock. That will repay our debt for the wrong done to you, and the service you've indirectly given us. Lady Val, I name you and Lady Bryon heroes of our city. If you ever need anything, just ask."

"Thank you," Val looked flabbergasted.

"Go, rest," Lady Byron hugged her tight. "Thank you so much."

Lord Windsor cleared his throat, "Lady Byron. We have much work to do. The third is needed for our oligarchy to work. I believe your views are to be a breath of fresh air. Do you require any security, or another manor?"

"No, your honor," she said. "I will find a place to stay, while Byron Manor is repaired."

Lord Windsor smiled, "I have a second cousin, a principled young lady, like yourself. She is new in town, and could use someone to show her around. I believe you two would get along rather well. Mostly because she thinks I'm a stuffy old man."

"If she is willing, I may take her up on that offer," Lady Byron felt better than she had in a long time.

"Oh, Lady Byron," Lord Windsor said. "We are equals. Here in this chamber, you can call me Jonathan."

"Well then, I'm Beneficent," she said.

The Challengers were long gone, and resting in the tavern where they had started not too long ago. Val was resting in a room, with Raven, Lorinda and Leilani fussing over her. She felt safe and secure, and most of all warm. Her friends were here, they had come for her. That night she slept more soundly than she had since she was a child.

Kirann watched over two sleeping forms. The targets of the mysterious person behind the Orcs. The DuValls had come with him, after he briefly explained the danger they were in. He had given them the bed, while he sat in his meditation position. He would watch over them, but he did allow himself to wander. Once more he found himself on his mountaintop, and he knew peace.


	21. Chapter 21

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XXI

Al watched over his charge, seeing with eyes that saw more than any mortals could. Below the surface golden light wisped about, looking less like a maelstrom, and more like a grand ballet. The swirling mists circled around in rings, each twisting in a different direction. Less chaos, there was beautiful order to the show. At the center was his core, and the brightest light. The Celestial smiled.

Kirann was on the right path, even if he had taken a less worn path. The comfort of rules and law would have kept him from the chancel of failing. In this case, falling and turning his Celestial nature inverse. Instead of a champion who brought light and life, he'd be a scourge who brought darkness and depression. A calculated risk to right a wrong, and following his own moral compass, his heart.

Al turned his gaze, to look at the coming darkness. A foul power had taken control of an army of Orcs. He couldn't interfere directly, but he could follow his charge's example. Now, how to indirectly help and keep his charge, along with his allies safe. It was a problem worth having. With that the Celestial disappeared into the night.

Hours later the sun rose, but the Challengers were gone. The innkeeper had been woken early and was grouchy. However, the band had warned him of danger coming, and at first he had scoffed at them. With smoke billowing on the horizon, the innkeeper changed his mind. Windows were boarded up and his family was secured behind the walls. Worse came to worse, they knew the secret tunnel that led to the forest.

Terror filled his heart as he saw the first Orcs emerge from the trees. That terror increased in level tenfold, as more appeared, and in formation. At their head was a man in pain, playing an instrument with pain written on his face. The innkeeper couldn't see the reason for the pain, the burned hands that still hadn't healed all the way. However, what he couldn't help but see, were the skeletal wings that burst forth.

The man with the bone wings turned, and followed the trail the Challengers had taken. That didn't leave the inn completely safe, as about twenty Orcs remained about it. They had a hungry look about them. The innkeeper started a prayer to whatever god could hear his plea, and wished the adventurers had stuck around a little longer. All he had in the inn were a bunch of merchants, not a fighter among them.

Kirann's fist smashed into an Orc skull. The crunching sound reverberated, even amongst the sounds of battle around him. Another Orc howled as electricity surged through a new stab hole in its back. A sliding short sword blade finished it off, just as another was cleaved in half with blade and holy light. Three others were blown back as a fireball blasted them in the face. Only one climbed back to its feet, for a blade staff to end its life

Boris lept forward, burying his axe into another Orc, while behind him Manheim let loose with a ray of enfeeblement. That Orc lost all coordination and ended up landing on its own axe. Right before finished itself off, trying to remove the axe, and getting impaled on its neighbor's spear.

Raven hurried the DuValls on, keeping them from the fighting. All around them, explosions of sound and magic erupted. The DuValls ran, fear moving them, as much as the need to find safety. An Orc popped up in front of them, but Raven took it out with an Eldritch infused slash. She led them onward as another Orc appeared, but this one found a radian sun bolt waiting. The Orc stumbled back, half its chest burned away. Kirann didn't keep it in pain, and his next strike ended the Orc.

"Hurry, Challengers," he called out. "Let's get these people to safety!"

Leilani came up behind the DuValls, "Come now, this place is getting a little rough."

"Silly Elf," grumbled Boris. "This is just getting fun! Come on you dirty beast Orcs! My axe needs to drink more of your blood."

"Dwarves," sighed Manheim. "We better be getting paid well for this."

Kirann pointed to a rushing Orc on their path, "Walton, that one needs smiting!"

The paladin intercepted the Orc, his blade swinging down, filled with holy power. Pure light sliced the Orc in half and then an eruption obliterated the falling halves into dust. Another rushing Orc stopped in its tracks, at the sudden sight of its neighbor being erased from existence. Thinking better of attacking the heroes, it proceeded to retreat, complete with excrement flowing freely behind it.

This allowed the Challengers to push forward, with the remaining Orcs nipping at their heels. Pushing the DuValls to their limit, they made their way towards Altamar. Unlike the adventurers, they were not used to being on the move for so long, or though such terrain. Luckily, they soon came onto the Challenger's cart.

Kirann and Val helped the two into the back, joined by Manheim and Leilani. The rest of the group piled onto the wagon, surrounding the DuValls, while Raven sat shotgun with Kirann up front. With the wagon, they made better time. The Orcs soon fell further behind, except for mounted ones. Those Leilani and Manheim dealt with, using their magic to take out the riders. It would still be close though. Their horses were good sturdy horses, but they weren't the fastest.

It was going to take a good hand at the reigns. Raven kept an eye out for attackers, leaving Kirann to focus on keeping everything moving. The pathway wasn't completely overgrown, but it wasn't as clear as the main roads. The cart skipped across it, and jostled the passengers in the back. He hoped that the wheels held, because a broken one would leave them at the mercy of Orcs.

The Challengers thought their worries were over as the pathway opened up to the road leading to Altamar. Until they saw the enormous horde on their flank. Thousands of Orcs spanned across the horizon and filled the land like a dark shadow. A pulsating mass of angry yells and guttural screams. That mass rushed forward, and Kirann snapped the reigns. He pushed his team onward.

Racing forward, the wagon flew across the land, with bumps and rocks sending he passengers bouncing up and down. None complained, because the foul breath of the chasing Orcs were right upon them. One orcish arrow ricocheted off Walton's breastplate and embedded into the side of the wagon. Another landed right by Val's head, and she returned fire with her short bow. She fired again and again, not sure if she was hitting the Orcs, but knowing she must have. If only by pure numbers alone, she was guaranteed to hit one.

The horses' breathing was starting to give Kirann pause for concern. He couldn't let them slow down. However, if they didn't get to safety soon, the horses might fall over dead. Luckily, he saw the gates coming up quickly. He heard the loud command to open the gate, and the monk pushed his team forward.

The wagon entered the walls, and just as quickly the opening closed. The portcullis slammed closed with a metallic crash. Only then did Kirann let his team slow down. Rushing up to meet his group, were the stable hands of the guards. He let them guide the horses, while he turned back to check on the DuVall's.

They looked good considering, even with being slightly pale and terrified. Both Boris and Walton showed signs of battle. Boris had three arrows sticking out of his armor, but no serious injuries. Walton had an arrow lodged between the plates of his armor, so he too was fine. Val looked from the arrow near her head back to Kirann and smiled. Captain Reynolds was coming up with a group of guards.

"You know how to make an entrance," he said to the gathered adventurers. "Are these the people?"

"Yes," Kirann answered. "These are the DuValls."

"Those Orcs seems awfully interested in getting to them," Boris said. "I haven't had that much fun in years!"

"Don't mind the Dwarf, he's been hit in the head too many times," Lorinda growled. "You are safe here, Lord Wallace will protect you. He's a good man."

"That's saying a lot for someone who doesn't like cities," Leilani ribbed the druid. "Come, we should get to the tavern before its drunk dry."

Captain Reynolds laughed, "I hate to do this, but Lord Wallace is asking for you to report to him now. I'll bring you all a bottle of whiskey later, just in case."

"You better!" Leilani said. "After that flight, you might want to bring two."

Kirann shook his head, "Come on then. Let's see what is needed."

The city had changed in the short time the Challengers had been gone. Before everything was open and the standard noises of a city abounded. Now, though everything was quiet, too quiet. The only noises were coming from the soldiers moving about, orders being given and forces moving about. It was different though, as if everyone were waiting with baited breath.

Once open avenues were now closed off, and the whole city had been transformed. The overall strategy seemed to have invading forces funneled into small areas. Giving the defenders a better way to fight, just incase the invaders breached the walls. Kirann had to give the architect respect for such a defense. He just hoped that it wouldn't come to that.

As such, the normal quick trip to the Lord's castle, was longer. As they got closer, more guards and soldiers were seen in greater groups. Most were receiving orders, others were relaying new information. All was centered on a grand table, with many maps and papers strewn about. A tent had been erected over it, to keep the elements from effecting the documents scattered about it. At the center of this grand table, sat Lord Wallace, who looked tired.

The lord of Altamar showed the lack of sleep, with bags formed under his eyes. However, they lit up when the Challengers walked up. Walking up to meet them, he grabbed Kirann's hand in a hearty shake. The advisors nearby went about their duties, not wanting their distaste to show. Lord Wallace favored them, even if the other nobles found them distasteful. Not that they hadn't used those like them in the past.

"It is good to see you all safe. How was the mission?" Lord Wallace asked. Seeing Val, he turned to her, "I'm glad to see you safe and sound."

"Tyranfall will be sending forces," Kirann explained. "Lord Byron has been imprisoned and his wife now helps rule the city. The DuValls are here now"

"Really?!" Lord Wallace didn't want to sound incredulous, but those words seemed beyond belief.

"Yes, your Eminence," Walton said. "Tyr was guiding our hand, as the guilty have been punished and the innocent freed."

Raven said next, "With the prophesized parents here, I'd expect the Orcs to stop at nothing to get in."

"The ones behind this attack may show themselves now," Kirann said. "They may want more control over the situation."

Lord Wallace nodded, "Might be able to flush them out then. Still, the numbers we're seeing may prove too many. Even with Tyranfall and Wyvern's Rest sending forces, I fear we are catastrophically outnumbered."

"Any other forces coming?" Lorinda asked.

"Possibly some sellswords from Luskan and Neverwinter," Lord Wallace answered. "How many, I'm not sure."

"Then we'll need to hold out and make them pay for each inch," Kirann said. "What's the plan?"

Lord Wallace smiled at the monk's straightforward manner, "We've got the regulars set. However, if you and your group could handle the irregulars. We've got several bands already in the city, but I'd like you to be over them. We could use your unique insight with them and any bands that may come in."

"We are getting paid for this, right?" Manheim growled, but Kirann ignored him.

The monk nodded, "Let's see what we have to work with."

Captain Reynolds led them from the main area, down towards the docks. There they found a less structured and far noisier scene. A dozen bands were gathered, and each one thought they should be in charge. None wanted to listen to the others, and demanded why they should. The captain of the guard was feeling bad for the Challengers. This was not going to be an easy challenge.

"These are the irregulars, many here for coin as much as to make a name for themselves," Captain Reynolds explained. "They all have done some work with us in the past, but not to the extent you all have."

"Why do I get this feeling that we're all doomed?" Manheim complained. "They'll make great fodder, but not an army."

"You need faith," Walton said. "Our leader has a way about him."

"Attention Sellswords!" Kirann called out, throwing a radian sun beam into the air to get their attention. "I am Kiran of the Challengers. Lord Wallace asks us to defend Altamar from Orcs. Together we will push them back, and glory will be ours. Those we protect will be most appreciative, maybe enough to share their riches.

All of this is naught if we don't take this threat seriously. My team has fought those Orcs outside, and they aren't normal Orcs. They use our tactics, use weapons forged for people. They are dangerous. They will still fall, because we will work together.

Any who have good ideas are welcome to speak. However, we can't speak to everyone now. I ask each of your band leaders meet with us. Those ideas will be heard then, and then a plan made."

One of the gathered sellswords cried out, "Who put you in charge?!"

"Lord Wallace did," Captain Reynolds interjected. "These adventurers know more about the threat than anyone else. Listen to them and follow their lead. Lord Wallace has agreed to pay you well for your time."

"Money is money," another sellsword piped up. "At least its one of us, instead of a know nothing stodgy nobleman. I say we hear them out. Worst case scenario, he turns out to be a fool and is replaced."

Captain Reynolds let out a long sigh, "Sorry, Kirann, I wish we could give you more to work with."

"It'll be fine," the monk said. "They may even surprise you."


	22. Chapter 22

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XXII

So it began. Kirann set about shaping the individual bands into a cohesive entity. Walton took the fighters and paladins, and he tested their skills. Lorinda the druids and rangers, while Val kept an eye on the rogues. Leilani took up the spellcasters, like the sorcerers and wizards. Interesting enough, Manheim took the few warlocks to the side, but didn't seem too interested in bringing them together. Raven was by the monk's side, as he gathered the leaders of each band.

Kirann had the daunting task of bringing these leaders, people used to calling the shots, into line. He started off by having them all sit in a circle, their weapons all laid out in front of them. Some made a stink because he had no weapon in front of him. However, he fixed this by finding an oil lamp and lighting it with one of sun beams. This seemed to placate the other leaders, or intimidated them.

Raven kept her face neutral, even as she wanted to crack up in laughter. Not knowing Kirann, most of the other leaders were jockeying for power with him. However, his calm and unassuming demeanor threw them off. His spartan speech and laconic humor kept them guessing as to his intent. Meanwhile, she could read his mood and realized he was studying them all. Looking at them with that unique view of his, she knew he was determining which ones were speaking truly.

Eventually the leaders relaxed, all thinking that they had a bead on him. They did get to explaining ideas they had for the defense of Altamar. Unsurprisingly each one thought they had the best idea. One wanted to do hit and run attacks on the Orcs, starting a guerilla front. Another wanted to summon an army of undead or demons to fight the invading horde. Still another wanted to use their warlocks to spread a massive plague amongst the invaders.

Kirann shot down the massive army of undead and demons. Such a force would cause more issues with the defenders, and could be more trouble than they would be worth. He also shot down the plague idea, as that could easily spread to the defenders or even to the local life around the city. The hit and run attacks had merit, though. A small task force could harass the Orcs, but it would be very dangerous for those in the task force.

"How many are in your band?" Kirann asked.

The leader growled, his voice scratchy from a previous injury, "My band is six, no more, no less. A stronger band you'll never meet, as we'll beat any who come at us."

"I'm not sure six would be a big enough threat, to pull the attention away," Raven said.

Kirann smiled, "More you will need, but not because lack of strength. If we send another six band of fighters, they can reinforce yours. Two more magic centric bands would compliment this plan."

"I object, we are more than just a compliment to a bunch of numbskulls and ham fists!" one of the mage adventuring groups yelled.

Raven interjected, "You have the power of the arcane, and they have physical power. Together you are stronger than alone."

"Yes, they can't complete this objective without you," Kirann added in. "Nor could you use your more powerful spells alone. For this to succeed, we need you both working together."

The gathered leaders looked at the two who had been objected, who looked like they were ready to throw down. Whether it was with each other, or with Kirann, nobody could guess. Because, they truly didn't look like they cared who was going to be fought, just that a fight was needed. Still, Kirann tried to keep the peace, it was for naught.

The mage leader shot up and sent out a spell aimed directly at the fighter leader. Lightning erupted out, and landed where the fighter had been. A dagger flew from the fighter, and the mage quickly started out a shield incantation. Kirann moved faster than both. First he moved the fighter out of the way of the lightning attack, and pulled the flying dagger out of the air. He threw it back at the fighter, with it landing to the fighter's right. He then shot out a flame cone, that caused the mage to jump aside.

"That is quite enough!" Kirann growled. "If you want fight, the Orcs are outside."

"I didn't even see him move!" one of the other leaders whispered to his neighbor to the right.

"Fast as lightning, that one is," the other leader agreed.

Kirann switched his view back and forth between the two, "Now are we going to work together?"

"I don't need their help!" the fighter leader said.

Kirann smiled, "Then let's see how you do against me."

Pulling his ki up, he thrust out another flame cone. The fighter managed to grab his sword, but found the heat of fire washing over him. He turned, only to a sun beam bounce off his metal armor. The fighter tried to move, but found another blast throwing him off balance. By the time his sword and shield were up, another flame cone kept him on the defensive.

"Your armor protects you," Kirann said. "Yet, you can't get near me. In this battle you start off with a disadvantage. The Orcs have magic users, we've faced them."

The mage leader started to laugh, till he found a fist inches away from his face. The mage pinwheeled back, losing his balance and landing on his backside hard. Before he could move, a falling foot came for him. Rolling, the mage had to keep on the move and couldn't concentrate to pull a spell out. Finally, he managed to stand, only for a pulsating palm hit, and found himself paralyzed.

Kirann kept the mage standing, "You have great power, useless if you can't bring it to bear." He then turned back toward the fighter. "United you may succeed, divided you will die."

"I believe the man has a point," another leader said. "My party will join the harassing force."

A druid leader nodded, "My druids will assist as well. We can bring the forest alive, and cause terror amongst the Orcs."

"The trick will be getting our harassing force out," another said. "With the Orcs encircling, we'd be hard pressed to move them."

"Ships," Raven said. "We can use the merchant ships to move them down the coast, and have the harassing group move back up."

"That could work," one of the others said. "I've got a captain that owes me a favor or two."

"Good. Now, the rest of us," Kirann went on.

For the next hour, the leaders all argued and planned on how to add to the city's defenses. By the end of the meeting, each band was set to reinforce the allied guards and soldiers around Altamar. The Challengers were the only group that was set to float between areas that might need them. Manheim wasn't happy about this, as he wasn't looking forward to running back and forth during the coming battle.

Kirann retired to the peace of the cathedrals. He sighed as he let the stress of the meeting rolled off of him. So many people, so many personalities, and all had to be managed. He knew that his little display could have made him two powerful enemies, it was necessary. These groups were used to depending on themselves and had little need for someone looking over their shoulders.

This was a burden he wouldn't have asked for. That being said, at least he had his people with him. He knew them, and what they could do. If he had to go into battle, at least it was with allies he could trust. Not that he didn't trust the other groups, as they had quickly fallen in line after his little demonstration.

With that out of the way, came the thoughts of how all this could all go wrong. That only made the weight on his shoulders seem to grow. All this responsibility, with everything they had all been through, he was looking for a rest. Not that he didn't want to be out seeing the world or adventuring. No, what was coming was war, and something far different than what he had set out for originally.

As and Aasimar, he felt the need to protect and seek out Evil to destroy. A part of him looked forward to the coming battle. Pitting his skills against the forces of darkness, and to protect a city full of people with promise, called to him. It was the duality of the ideal versus the reality. He was protecting a city and people who could turn to Good or Evil, and many of them, including his own people, may not survive the battle.

"Copper for your thoughts," Raven said, coming up behind Kirann.

He smiled, "I think I need a vacation."

She rubbed his back, "I think you deserve one after this. Are you okay?"

Kirann nodded, "Yeah. How are you doing? I drug you into that meeting. Sorry about that."

"Don't apologize," she said. "I think you did well. I will admit, it is interesting to see how you solve problems. Makes how you annoy Manheim even more hilarious."

"He annoys himself," Kirann explained. "To him, the reward is power and wealth. Instead the experience is the reward."

Despite herself, Raven smiled, "You're a good man, Kirann. I think you see the best in others, sometimes when there isn't any."

"We all have good in us," Kirann said. "Happenstance, choice, we can all choose it."

Raven shook her head, "Come on, let's get you some food and some rest."

The monk and the warlock left to find the necessities of life. The rest of their party soon broke from their duties and did the same. The gathered adventurers they had been working with indulged at the taverns open, but managed to keep things civil enough, that the guard wasn't needed. That in itself was a miracle, as adventurers were known for their rowdiness with drink.

While Altamar braced for what was to come, the Orcs followed a Fallen Aasimar with bone wings. This bard had scarred hands, that still pained him as he played his magical instruments. The Pied Piper looked over the horde that was his boss' army. They were strong, and thanks to the Boss, well equipped. Where the weapons had come from, the Pied Piper didn't know, but the Boss had come through.

For the Piper though, he was hoping for a chance at the Aasimar monk who had burned him. Healed as he had been, he was left with scars. If the monk hadn't been another Aasimar, the Pied Piper would have just planned a quick, violent death. Instead, he wanted to make the monk die horribly. If it could be done, with the monk being broken first, then the Pied Piper would be ecstatically gleeful.

"Piper," the voice of the Boss roared to life. "The city of Altamar is preparing, they know you are there."

"They will still fall," the Pied Piper reflexively said.

The Boss' voice didn't change much, "You have the numbers. Beware, as the adventurers who interfered with our plans, are in the city."

"Good!" the Pied Piper's face became alive with anger. "I will destroy him!"

This time the Boss did change his tone, "Beware, lest your anger blinds you to the danger of this group. They interfered with our plans and destroyed the Orcs under your command."

"That won't happen," the Pied Piper said. "I have learned from my last battle with him."

The boss went on, "Possibly. However, your real goal is to find our target. Our Orcs will raze the city to the ground. Only after you have completed your task, can you seek out the adventuring group, and the monk you so desire. Do you understand?"

"Yes," the Pied Piper agreed before walking away to let his anger burn.

Forces set in motion, destiny moved forward, as it was wont to do. Beings aligned with those forces set onto the board, and ready for battle. Their efforts either to win the day or damn them all. For the battle was more than they realized, and worth the struggle. Who remained afterwards was up to the roll of the dice.


	23. Chapter 23

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XXIII

War, it had come. The Orcs marched under many banners, with a fallen Aasimar at their head. Forces of the enemy only known as, The Boss. They stretched across the landscape, with rows and rows to replace any fallen. A giant wave of attackers to wash away the city of Altamar. They surged forward screaming cries to Gruumsh, and nearly drowning out each other.

Those on the wall of Altamar felt fear grip them. For many, they thought of an Orcish tribe, or maybe a few bands of marauders coming together. What they faced was more than an army, but more like a tiny nation. A vast sea of bloodhungry beings came at them, and one could understand the terror that seized at their hearts.

The Orcs rolled across the grounds, behind them lumbered huge rolling towers. The rumbling of the ground beneath their feet was felt even behind the city walls. Ground was ripped apart, as the horde obliterated the land beneath them. What was once a living area of grass and fauna became upturned dirt, destroyed and dark brown.

"Don't stand there, fire!" barked Captain Reynolds. "Let loose the first volley, second volley stand ready!"

The defenders fired, a stream of arrows streaming through the air. Like angry bees they zipped to their targets and ripped into the Orcish Horde. A second volley followed, and only the birds of the sky flew truer than those arrows. Deadly missiles, they slammed into their targets, taking out more Orcs. They fell, only to be ground to paste by the horde.

More Orcs fell, but no matter how many, more still remained. Captain Reynolds understood how this could affect his people, but also knew that there was no other choice. They had to fight, they had to forget about their fear. There were many, many people relying on them. Fear was allowed by the civilians, but to the soldiers and guards, they had to master that emotion. They had to push on beyond terror, fight on even when they wanted to run away.

"Carry on archers," he called out. "Keep firing in volleys." To one of his lieutenants, "What is the status of the portcullis?"

"Still holding, sir," the woman answered. "We have our fighters in formation and ready."

"What about the irregulars?" the captain asked.

The lieutenant smiled, "They are at the position assigned to them by Master Kirann. He says a surprise is almost ready."

Captain Reynolds was caught between wanting to know what kind of surprise the monk was talking about and knowing he'd have to ask after all this was over. That is if the whatever the monk had up his sleeve, didn't become evident. Instead he told his lieutenant to keep him appraised of any changes to the situation.

His attention went back to the battle at hand. His archers were still firing volleys, and the Orcs had finally started using shields. Using those shields, they raised them up and interlocked them, making a tunnel. Ten Orcs ran up, carrying what looked like a felled tree, towards the tunnel.

Captain Reynolds called out, and the archers changed their targets. More Orcs with shields appeared to protect the ones carrying the battering ram. The captain kept his cool, but on the inside there were curses spouting continuously. Kirann had told them that the Orcs were had adopted tactics, but he hadn't wanted to believe it would be this complete.

Then several bright balls of fire screamed through the sky. With a great concussive force that even he felt, the fireballs slammed into the battering ram Orcs. Several porcine bodies were instantly turned to ash. Others flew back into the horde, nearly dead. They were completely dead, crushed beneath the weight of the horde.

"Now pour the Scalding!" Captain Reynolds called out. At once elated at the appearance of whoever had been throwing the fireballs.

During the last few days, the citizens of Alatamar had gathered any liquid that could be heated to a high temperature. They weren't using any of the potable water sources, but oil, and other unique sources had been collected. Then left in boiling cauldrons along the wall. Now loaded into smaller containers, they flipped those containers on the Orcs below. Scalding liquids fell and the enemy was caught.

While the Orcs at the wall were dying from the Scalding, the adventurers sent by Kirann fired another set of fireballs. Part of the horde turned to face them, just a small portion. That was when lightning flashed from the sky and struck several Orcs. More of the horde turned to face as entangling roots sprouted up. More lightning blasted through the sky, and more Orcs fell.

This time the shamans of the horde replied with their own magical powers. Ice spears lashed out towards where the fireballs had come from. They were rewarded with the sound of ice hitting metal. The small break off rushed forward, to find the fools attacking them. What they found was a grand army of Dwarves, Elves, Humans and Dragonborn facing them.

The Orcs rushed forward with their fine weapons, attacking, slashing and bludgeoning all in their sight. However, the army of their enemies never lost one being. In fact, one flabbergasted Orc saw his great axe fall through a lone human warrior. Even worse, more of the enemy appeared around him. He swung his axe again, this time a Dwarf in plate fell, but cried out an orcish cry. Why did the Dwarf cry out in orcish?

That question would never be answered, as everything around the Orc went instantly bright. He didn't feel the searing heat melt skin, gristle and muscle from his bones. He died too quickly to see the Orc beside him erupt in flames. The shamans with them were blasted away, and had no defense as the elements took them.

Captain Reynolds couldn't pay attention to the whole battlefield, but the sudden lightshow had caught his gaze. He saw the magic users throwing their powerful spells, but what really confused him was the Orcs. They had started to fight amongst themselves, slaughtering each other. The guard captain could only guess this was the work of the wizards and sorcerers, that had come to Altamar's aid.

More of the horde peeled off from the host to confront these attackers. That was when Altamar's naval ships unleashed their barrage. Cannons fired out deadly projectiles, that exploded. The small offshoot of the horde was obliterated, yet more Orcs came. Despite the shelling of the naval ships, the horde had more to spare.

The adventurers took that time to flee back into the wilderness. The naval ships would give them cover, and they would rest. The plan was to keep up the harassment, keeping the horde distracted. So far the first foray had gone well, but war had a tendency for the chaotic. All the success now could be for naught in the end, and many of those fighting now could end up in the ground.

For the next few hours the tides of battle continued on just like that, with the defenders pushing the invaders back. Those adventurers sent to harass the massive horde, kept up the hit and run tactics. Losses were minimal, and a small stirring of hope sprang up in each of their hearts. The Orcs even pulled back, with the Pied Piper watching from a distance.

Night began to fall, with the sun falling on the horizon. Its color changing from the vibrant, bright to a muted blood red. The invaders sprouted up fires, which illuminated the massive numbers of the horde camped outside of Altamar. As more and more fires flared to life, that little hope vanished. A sea of fire spread across the land, and caused trees nearby to ignite.

The defenders watched helplessly as a new sound came from the gathered forces of Orcs. A horrendous sound, one full of dread and malice surged forth. The oppressive nature of it blanketed the defenders, and drug their hearts towards suffocating darkness. Many fell to their knees, a sense of nausea overwhelmed some. Others felt an immediate need to run, fell from the coming evil.

Chanting from the Orcs strengthened as dark clouds rolled in and thunder rolled across everything. The non-caster Orcs howled and screamed their defiance. Dark lightning struck the ground, throwing dirt up into the air. From each strike bony hands burst from the ground, undead moths erupting from their earthly cocoons.

Skeletons and earthly elementals rose from the horde, making their way towards the walls of Altamar. In the skeletons' hands were weapons made from bone, sharpened into blades and spears. Their undead grins ever plastered on their skulls, with empty dark sockets for eyes. They shambled forward in a march of the damned, remembering the motions from previous lives. However, their shamble was off, like a creature that remembered marching, but couldn't any longer.

Their earth elementals walked as only a pile of boulders can, with massive stone hammers for fists. Their foot falls rumbled and shook the walls, their massive dark maws produced howls unnerving. Every third stepped the elementals crashed their hammer hands against, sending waves of ground towards the defenders. Behind them, more Orcish howls cheered the new additions on.

The cheers changed. Slow at first, but it started with one Orc, then passed to another, and then another. Silence fell over them, blanketing the horde in the absence of all sound, except of their thralls. Before them, a single light flared into existence. Small, almost a candle size, but it kept growing and growing till it lit up the area like a new sun. A tiny sun, but one that bathed the defenders and pushed back against the darkness.

The light sprouted wings, even as the Orcs watching turned their eyes away from the light. So bright to blind them, they couldn't see the man in the center of the glow. They heard his command, the same command that called out the waiting priests and wizards behind the city walls.

Divine magic spilled out amongst the encroaching undead and elementals. Most turned away in fear, others fell to dust. Those that managed to continue found themselves flung through the air as a fiery blast hit in their center. The elementals shook off the attack, as fire didn't really harm their rocky skin. Those skeletons not thrown, were obliterated.

About halfway to the walls, the elementals fell. Their connection to the ethereal plane snipped. Behind the walls, numerous wizards fell unconscious from the effort it took to break the connection. Around them the defenders cheered, echoing back to the invading army at their doorstep.

"Foolish, bring the rest in!" the Pied Piper called out.

The darkness returned, even as Kirann's light blasted out into the night. Flying fiends and gibbering imps materialized from hellish portals. Monsters of all sorts came from the wilds, a mishmash of scales and crocodile like skin. They rushed forward, at the city and the promise of serving their masters' wills. A dark tide rushing towards the rock that was Altamar, in this battle between Good and Evil.

They met hastily summoned creatures and monsters. Familiars reported back to their masters, directing the magical response. Rangers shot out arrows, while those trained as Arcane Archers spat out magic infused arrows. Light and explosions carried through the surrounding area, a testament to the struggle at hand. Druids shot out their nature spells, countering the best they could. The battle thus far was reliant on the ranged abilities and close up defenses of the city. Each knew the possibility of melee combat increased, if they couldn't hold the line.

Throughout the night the battle raged. Darkness and light pummeling against each other, neither taking the victory, but none the loss either. All the while, the lone figure of light remained. His flaming sun beams taking out monsters, just as the fireballs and lightning blasts of the wizards and sorcerers. As dawn came, the rising sun illuminated the battle wrought ground.

Beneath the illuminating vibrance of the sun, the full chaos of the nightly battle showed. Monsters and creatures littered the area between invader and defender. Arrows dotted the landscape, deadly flowers planted into the ground. Curling smoke and blackened craters marked the severe magical battle.

Altamar still stood. The people they were protecting were still safe, and fresh replacements replaced those who had been fighting the whole night. Meanwhile the Orcs reformed back up into attack formations. Day two of the siege was starting, and neither side was ready to fall. The Pied Piper watched as the Sunsoul Monk vanished behind the walls, and his blood boiled. This fight wasn't over yet.


	24. Chapter 24

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XXIV

Kirann stumbled, feeling the exhausting effects of using his abilities throughout the night. Raven came up to him, propping his up. He didn't miss the look of concern on her face and questioned how bad he looked. Her warmth was welcome though, as chills ran across his body. His price for pushing his limits, the rewards were to be seen.

"Come on, let's get you to a bed," she said with the utmost concern in her voice.

He nodded, "To the mansion, we must go."

"What? You must really be tired, you're talking funnier than usual," she ribbed him.

Despite being exhausted he laughed, "No, one of my teachers talked like that. Always, 'To find what you need, search within.' Same teacher loved my spartan speech."

"Sounds like an interesting place," Raven guided him towards where their belongings were.

Kirann agreed, "It was my home for many years. Destiny guides me towards a new one."

"Can't say I know that feeling," a deep sadness filled Raven with that admission.

He pulled her closer to him, "A home, a family, is more than a place and people that share blood. You have both with us. You belong."

They found his bag, opened the door to the mansion. Jeeves and Loralei were here to help the monk to his room. Loralei came back, pulling Raven off to hers. At first, she objected, but the thought of a warm bed won her over. Her last musing before falling asleep was a simple one. If you could choose a family, she would choose the one she had none.

Manheim was resting in his room at the inn. The Changeling was seeing to his every need. After a long battle, for which he was instrumental, he deserved the rest. He was also deserving of the other requests he was to make of the Changeling. The thoughts of which brought a smile to his face.

A knock at his door evaporated those thoughts, and the wizard sent her back into the container. Stiffly walking over to the door, he opened it. Standing there was Bruce Robertson, the court wizard for Lord Wallace. Dressed in his battle robes, the wizard looked tired but oddly dapper. Manheim hated the other man for that.

"What do you want?" Manheim growled.

Wizard Robertson disregarded the rude greeting, "You did well on the wall last night. Is there anything you require? I can have someone bring some food and drink up."

"I have what I need," Manheim rolled his eyes and turned away from his visitor. "Anything else?"

"Yes, it would be good for you and the other wizards to be in sync," the court wizard replied. "I would like you to practice with them, show them some of the better spells you have found. We are stronger together than apart."

Manheim answered back, "I care not for the inept magic hurlers you call wizards. They can either keep up or keep from holding me back. They should be following my lead anyway."

As politely as possible Bruce Robertson put the man in his place, "These wizards are under my command. They are well trained, and good people. The only lead they follow is mine. Though I appreciate what you have done, I'd take all of them and their dedication to Altamar, over self-interest. I offer resources, as a courtesy and thanks for your service. I'll be at the keep, if you require anything, wizard."

Manheim watched in shock as the other wizard marched away, like he wasn't a threat, turning his back on him. He wanted to throw a fireball at the other man, make him treat him as the power he was. Soon this idiot and all the like him would know the real power which Manheim wielded, and they would give him the respect he deserved. If not, they would soon be obliterated.

"Why do you fight with these imbeciles?" came a voice from the back of his room.

Manheim let out a prepared spell, magic missiles blasting towards where the voice had come from. Pieces of the wall and a table were hit, sending splinters and grit flying into the air. From his right, the voice laughed at the damage. Manheim cast a web spell, thinking to trap the intruders. All he managed was to damage more of the room. The voice had moved to his left.

"Such power you have collected, but nobody gives you the respect you deserve," the voice said. "To think I nearly commanded your power, that was my mistake. I should have allied with you instead."

Manheim pulled a rod from his robes, but didn't use the prepared spell in it, "Who are you?"

"Many call me 'Boss,' but you can call me, Tyrannus," the voice answered and became visible as a shadowy form. "I serve a lord in the Hells that has ambition, as do I. So, the trade is thus. You help us break this defense and allow us the DuValls. You'll find items to increase your power, make those who hold you back regret doing so."

Manheim lowered the rod, "Devils make a lot of promises, why should I believe yours?"

The Boss snarled, "I am no demon, fliting about murdering without reason. I am a devil, a maker of deals and must honor those deals. However, I can see you are smarter than the rest of these oafs. A taste of the power you can wield will suffice then?"

Manheim's magic book opened up, the pages moving on their own. Flipping page after page, one could see the arcane symbols and words that made up his collected power. On a blank page it stopped. Writing began on the page, slowly revealing a new spell. Manheim looked it over and read the words.

Instantly his mind flashed to a rocky desert. There a whip of fire snapped in the air, releasing currents of flame. Enemies, faceless and dark writhe in pain before becoming ash in the wind. The terrible figure unleashing this fury is finally seen, and it is Manheim. Behind him a plethora of beings kneeling in reverence to him.

"So, all you want is the city and the DuValls?" Manheim said, coming out of the vision.

The dark figure answered, "The DuValls first, their progeny can not be born. The city is secondary, though a jewel if conquered."

"I think we can come to an arrangement," Manheim said, visions of future power and glory running through his head.

Lord Wallace was exhausted. He had stayed appraised of the forces defending his land, and waited with held breath at incoming reports. As such it had been a long night, but a good one. He was proud of his forces, of them holding out against the invasion. He also knew that there was more to go. He was just so tired, and wanted this whole thing to go away.

"You look worse than the decaying monsters outside," Captain Reynold told him. "You should get some rest. I've got the walls under control and our people can handle the Orcs for a little while."

Lord Wallace shot him telling look, "My place is leading my people."

"To which sir, you have done a fantastic job. However, what they don't need to see is their leader falling over from exhaustion," Captain Reynolds argued. "Don't make me get your attendants to carry you back to your chambers!"

Lord Wallace through up his hands in mock surrender, "I know when I've been beat, Captain. Send for me, if there are any changes."

The objects of all this strife sat in the Church of Tyr. Clark and Kennison were afraid. Attacked by these brutes of beasts, they had fled with the Challengers to this city. They had hoped for safety, but they had overheard the soldiers talking. They knew a horde of Orcs was outside the wall, looking for them, wanting to kill them. The only reason they were given, was because of something they hadn't done yet.

Prophesy had a way for destroying lives, because new lives were made in their wake. The child of a farmer could go on to be a legendary knight of all that is holy and good. A simple sickly child, to the champion of a nation, if not the world. An orphan could become a dark avenger, protecting the weak from those who prey on them. Each one had a life before, and it was destroyed. From the rubble of those lives, something grand arose.

"One has to wonder if a prophecy is a road map or a comfort," Leilani said as she sat down beside the DuValls. "Sorry to intrude, after last night, I felt the need to be in some place quiet."

Kennison said, "We owe you our lives, you aren't intruding."

"I'm just glad to help," the sorceress replied back.

Her mind wandered back to thoughts of prophecy, even as her body began fall asleep. Her dreams processed those thoughts, allowing her to explore them fully. The nature of things fascinated her, probably because her nature allowed control of the arcane. She saw things differently than others, and she wondered once more how much she saw was different.

The enemy behind the Orcs was trying to break prophesy, to stop the person who will be the end of them. While Kirann and Altamar fought to keep those in the prophecy safe. Did they fight for the prophecy too, or just to protect those in it? Did knowing that a savior would be born give strength to those who fought, or fill them with false courage?

"Daughter of mine, you are taking your first steps into a larger world," a voice said. "You are more than you know, and know that great power is yours to take. Do not be afraid of it, it is a part of you."

"Who are you?" She asked to the ghostly voice.

"I am part of you, as you are part of me," the voice replied. "Know that I am very proud of you, Daughter of mine."

While Leilani slept, the DuValls were attended to by the priest of Tyr. They prayed for them, and kept them company. Their message of the God of Justice watching over them, made the couple feel slightly better. They were still in the middle of a war that they didn't ask for, but were surrounded by those who cared. It couldn't last forever, and both looked forward to returning to a semblance of normal.

"I wish I could do more to help out around here," Clark said. "I feel useless just waiting here for something to happen."

One of the priests had an idea, "You have the look of a smith about you."

"Yes, I am one," Clark responded.

"Many of our soldiers could use their equipment repaired," the priest advised. "Mostly they have damage from arrows and magic. The city's blacksmiths would probably welcome an extra hand."

"It is settled, come Kennison, we'll help out with fixing the broken arms and armors," Clark instantly felt better with a task to do.

His wife normally helped him out in his shoppe, they worked the best as a team. He would form the metals and his wife would make and place the jewels. Together they made beautiful jewelry, ornate armor and weapons. They had also done their fair share of repairs, tending to the armors of the passing through adventurers.

Outside the horde once more attacked Altamar. Captain Reynolds led the defense, and soon the battlefield was littered with the corpses of more Orcs. This time more Altamaran forces fell too. A few lucky strikes from Orcish bows and well placed blasts from Orc magic. Just a few, but considering the number difference between the two forces, the Altamaran casualties would be felt more.

The day continued on with the attackers unable to breech the defenders' defenses. They had more siege machines on the way, and crude trebuchets were being constructed. It would have been moving along faster, but a harassing force of defenders had slipped outside the walls. This small band had caused major havoc amongst the Orcs, and the Boss had sent smaller parties out to take care of them. None had returned with their corpses.

The Boss wasn't worried though. Even if he wasn't able to just strut in and take what he needed, the Orcs would serve their purpose. So would the wizard, that one would be easy enough to turn. He was all about power, being respected and doing what he willed because he willed it. The Boss saw great promise in that wizard and looked forward to the day that the Hells would reap him from this world. A great devil he'd make, but only with the proper tutelage.

For the moment his visage as the Boss would serve him. At some point he wished to turn back to his true form. He wanted to let these mortals flee in terror from Tyrannus, and even more he wanted the title of Archdevil as his own. That would require either his master's rise or fall, either would suffice for him.


	25. Chapter 25

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XXV

Altamar's harassing forces interjected themselves into the Orcish lines. This distracted the invading force, splitting off tiny portions to take on the harassing forces. Arrows flew through the air, but unlike the previous days, hit shields. During the night, the Orcs had been delivered crudely made, but usable shields. As a result, their casualties were reduced by a third.

The front of the Orc line was made up of two rows, each holding up the jagged, blackened new shields. On these shields were iron spikes, barely attached by primitive welding. These massive shields would have been more effective, if they had formed them up like scales on a snake. Instead the Orcs used them more for personal protection, explaining how some of their numbers fell to the defenders.

One particularly nasty looking Orc taunted the defenders with the most profane shouts. It didn't matter that they couldn't hear him over the din of the other Orcs. He still went about belittling those defenders behind their walls. He even stopped long enough to drop what passed for his trousers and shake his naked front at them. Laughing, he pulled up his pants before decapitating a nearby Orc. He wanted blood, he wanted flesh and he wanted those soft things behind the wall. What he planned on doing to them, would have made many commit suicide to avoid.

"Move your puss bollocks infested hides!" the nasty looking Orc screamed in their profane language. "I want my trophies. I hear this city has such soft beasties inside!"

More Orcs cheered at the nasty looking Orc's words. They rushed forward, laughing as arrows bounced off the front's shields. Behind them, magic users and Gruumush priests cast their spells, with at least one warlock calling down the powers of her patron. She raised her spear into the air, bone jewelry rattling as she did, and a specialized Eldritch Blast smote one of the defenders on the wall.

The poor victim was reduced to ash, gone in an instant. The other defenders nearly broke from their positions in fear. Luckily the captain had put veterans with each grouping, veterans that could take charge and reinvigorate morale. This veteran pulled his people back together, and kept them attacking the invaders marching up to the wall.

Meanwhile the tiny splinter sent after the harassers, which numbered about fifty, chased after the two group of adventurers. This was the repeat of the previous day, so the adventurers weren't too worried. They had kited a similar group yesterday for most of the day. They had been tired, but had kept the Orcs off balance. Their kill count was lower than the defenders, barely cracking two dozen. They had earned the ire of the Boss, though, and didn't realize he had a plan for them.

Running and fighting, the harassers almost didn't see the sign that was their imminent doom. A loud crash and flashing light threw several of the harassers to the ground. Those not thrown nearly lost bowel control as another group of fifty Orcs crest over a hill. They were caught between the two groups, with no place to retreat to.

Spears fell from the sky like deadly rain, these missiles piercing armor and shields. Two melee fighters were felled, but still lived. One wizard managed a protective shield around them, that stopped several spears. What it couldn't protect from were the charging Orcs, complete with weapons ready to end them. The harassers were in for a world of pain, caught between death and destruction.

One wizard stepped forward. A lone woman in practical robes, with blond hair and brown eyes. The human wizard quickly cast her spell, a massive ball of fire and force slammed into the oncoming Orcs. Invaders were blown into the air, others were reduced to ash, and the remaining Orcs stopped in their tracks. She didn't stop though.

Ever since she was a little girl, Emily had dreamed of discovering the secrets of the Weave. The source of a wizard's power, they pulled this energy out of the Weave to power their spells, producing wonders. Her parents had sacrificed much to find her a teacher, and eventually she was proficient enough to apply for a wizard college. Unfortunately, she needed money, and to get it, had joined an adventuring band.

She cast Magic Missile, followed by the grease spell. By this time, her melee companions had stepped up to give her time to cast. Even as Orcs fell flat on their faces, or dropped dead from the arcane attacks, her attention was casting another massive fireball spell. Emily could feel her strength waning, pulling too much magical energy at once. Yet, she couldn't stop, her new family needed her.

After joining with them, the group eventually became like a second family to her. It wasn't overnight, but over the days, that led to months, they had grown to depend on each other. They had faced many challenges, and overcome defeats, as well as challenges. She had been with them during heartbreaks, and even as they found love.

Her fireball launched from her hands, and Emily fell to one knee. Her mind slowed, and became foggy. She really needed to take a breath, rest, but the Orcs had reformed. More were gone, but her people were still outnumbered horribly. Instead, she chanted the spell that shot lightning through the gathered enemies. More of her strength left her, and a coppery taste flowed into her mouth. She was pushing herself harder than she knew was wise.

The priest was by her side, pulling her up. She gave him a pained smile, and a thought occurred to her. He wasn't bad looking, a thing she hadn't noticed before. Maybe it was because of his piety, but more because of how he teased her mercilessly about her arcane studies. She wondered now, if he had been doing that because it was his way of flirting with her.

Picking at her because he wasn't sure how to talk to her about his feelings. Growing up in a pious monastery, he wouldn't have been around much women if any. His formative years lacking in dealing with the uncomfortable feelings she brought out in him. Now, seeing his worried look for her, she understood. He had feelings for her, and they had wasted so much time in fighting.

Without thinking, she reached up and kissed him. He wrapped her in his arms, a plea to his deity still on his lips. Emily felt his warmth, and how he melded into her. So much time gone, when they could have been happy. His god didn't even have a thing against his priests marrying. If they survived, she was going to correct this mistake, immediately.

The moment ended too soon as the priest was struck by an arrow. He fell in pain, and she looked on in horror as blood seeped from his holy vestments. Worse was his cry of pain, he was normally more stoic when injured. She turned, knowing her talents lay less in healing than in restructuring the elements. Anger flared in her, the exhaustion fleeing from her boiling rage.

Acid was flung through the air, fire streamed at the incoming Orcs and lightning flashed from her fingertips. One lucky Orc got passed the others, and she smashed her staff against the head of the Orc. She fell, while Emily the Wizard cast a spell, giving her thee magical stones. Pitching these, they exploded against the Orcs, while she cast more.

Their situation was untenable though. Already two other adventurers had been felled. Their dead bodies were being trampled over by incoming attackers. It was only time before they were overrun. The defenders back at Altamar wouldn't be able to send a rescue force, as they were still fighting the main body. Their only hope would be the merchant ships that had been ferrying them. However, she couldn't say that any of the captains would be willing to risk their crews for such a rescue.

Emily readied another cast, feeling her exhaustion surpass the adrenaline in her system. That was when the booming explosion of a cannon surprised her. The projectile fired exploded amongst the Orcs, and she stole a look back. There, precious yards away were small dinghies. Behind them was the merchant ship that had delivered them.

"Come on ye scallywags, get in!" one of the sailors called in.

The merchant ship fired again, and the Orcs pulled back. Even with the new shields, they were no match for a cannonball. The adventurers took this time to retreat, running haphazardly back towards the waiting dinghies. Emily pulled at the priest, but their fighter easily threw the wounded man over his shoulder. They raced towards the waiting sailors.

An army would prepare for such a retreat. They would have fallen back in stages, with those holding shields covering the retreat. Those with bows and magic would have stopped at the water's edge and fired back into the invaders. This would have kept the invaders back, and protected those rushing up to meet them. An orderly retreat is what they would have practiced, but these weren't soldiers. These adventurers were heroes in their own right, but their training was in smaller group tactics.

The priest was tossed into the waiting dinghy, Emily jumped in right by him. The survivors managed to all pile into the waiting small boats. However, their enemies had raced forward very quickly. Now the Orcs were in range to use their spears and crude bows on the fleeing adventurers. Emily acted, knowing that her friends were still in danger.

Standing up, she threw a massive acid ball towards the Orcs. Despite the fact that she nearly passed out from the effort, she lasted long enough to see the effect. Many Orcs fell screaming to the ground, their skin and muscle slowly melting off their bones. She managed a smile, knowing that she had done all she could do. That was when the spear hit her in the center of the chest.

Emily fell, breaking the spear as she did. It had passed through her chest and out through her back. The blood covered stone tip snapped as she landed on it. The shaft was snapped, but this was by her party's fighter. She felt cold, and there was this warm liquid pouring around her. Over her, the priest was screaming. She didn't understand his words, but she felt lighter. It was almost as if she was standing outside of herself. Next came the warm, comforting light.

Kirann stepped out of the doorway leading to his mansion. The scene he came to was the same chaos he had left hours ago. Soldiers ran back and forth, resupplying those on the walls and relieving others. Behind him was Raven, and she looked rested. He smiled, glad she was there with him.

Something was off, and he had a sudden urge to dodge. Following it, he sidestepped, which prevented a fist from connecting to his face. There standing was a wounded priest, with several others running after him. The man looked between depression and unending rage, topped off with a broken shafted arrow sticking out of his shoulder.

"You killed her, you son of a.."the priest threw another punch, but found himself lying on his back.

Kirann had the flipped priest by the arm, and locked the arm. The priest wouldn't be getting up, but also wouldn't be harmed any further. The monk looked up, and stopped the priest's companions with a glare. Under him, the priest flailed, reopening his wounded shoulder.

"What is going on?" Kirann asked. "What happened?"

"You killed her!" the priest screamed again, but it was the fighter of his group that really answered.

The fighter explained, "We got ambushed by the Orcs. It was as if they were waiting on us. We lost our wizard, we lost Emily."

The priest screamed in pain, "You sent us out there. This is all your fault."

Kirann pulled the priest up, "I'm sorry for your loss."

"I don't want your apologies, I want her!" the priest yelled, before he broke down into tears.

"It's war, I know that doesn't help, but the monk didn't have anyway to know," the fighter said. "Emily went out saving us, don't mar her memory like this."

The priest fell to the ground, "To the Hells with you."

"No! I know she was special to you, she was special to all of us," the fighter explained. "She was my sister in arms, just as you're my brother." The fighter pulled the priest into a bearhug. "Her kindness was unexpected to someone like me. She treated me like a friend when I was used to people seeing me as a monster.

You listened to me and guided me, protecting my soul. Now you're in pain and I don't know how to help you. I want to make this better, I want her back too. Just tell me what to do, and I'll do anything. Attacking this monk though won't bring her back. You know this. This isn't how she would want us to be, not what she sacrificed herself for."

"Priest, let's get you healed," Kirann said. "I would like to hear more about your friend. Our companions are special and should always be remembered."

"No," the priest shook his head.

KIrann understood, "That's fine. When you need to talk, I am here to listen."

The fighter led the priest away. Raven watched Kirann, seeing the monk's face tighten. He blamed himself, because it was his plan. She could see him holding onto this, letting the weight bring him down. That was something that he didn't deserve. The plan was the best they had, and had been approved by Lord Wallace and Captain Reynolds.

"You know it's not your fault," she said.

Kirann shrugged, "Fault or not, someone was killed following my plan."

"I think it is a little more complicated," Raven said. "This whole mess is more convoluted then it should be. Powers greater than us are in play, and it's like we're all little pieces on some grand board game."

Kirann sighed, "I think we should check in with Captain Reynolds."

However, before he could move, Raven stopped him. "Look at me. You may save everyone that you meet, but you can't be responsible for all of humanity. You are just one man, a good man, but just one. Not alone, though. You have us.."

"I know," he gave her a brief smile. "Let's go and see what we can do to save more people."

"That's my monk," Raven said, before realizing what she had said. Freezing, she looked to see if he noticed, but he didn't give any indication. Letting out her breath, she followed him out.

The portcullis melted. A robed figure walked away, not needing to be nearby as the acid ate away at the defensive protection. The guards stationed near this entrance lay dead, their faces frozen in various incarnations of rage or fear. Beyond the portcullis the Orcs marched forward, following a glowing light beaconing on the arch of the portcullis. This was their way in, and the beginning of the end.


	26. Chapter 26

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XXVI

Lord Wallace was awoken by the desperate cry of his people. Launching from his bed, he quickly found his armor. Three attendants stood by to assist him as a horrified page stammered in fear. He tried to calm the young person, but the page looked near panic, like he would die on the spot.

"What is the report?" Lord Wallace tried to sound patient, but knowing that Captain Reynolds would only send word of trouble.

The page stammered, "M.m..milord, the Orcs are breaking t. ."

"What? How?!" Lord Wallace was glad his attendants were quick, because he needed to get to his guard captain.

The page was silent, but the attendants had finished. Lord Wallace walked off, just as they had clipped his cloak to the armor. Flowing behind him, the cloak filled out the hallway as Lord Wallace marched. One attendant ran after him carrying two swords, one was ceremonial, the other practical.

He found the guard captain shouting orders with abandon, and screaming at his people to get into position. Captain Reynolds was always calm and rarely screamed. Not to say he couldn't raise his voice and be heard, but he rarely screamed. The fact he was, told Lord Wallace more than he needed to know.

"Captain, what is going on?" Lord Wallace called out for the captain to report.

Captain Reynolds looked over, forgetting the proper greeting of saluting his lord. Instead he beckoned Lord Wallace over, one commander to another. On the table in front of him, showed the entrance points of the city walls. A huge red "X" was marked on the one nearest to the Orcish horde. Little blocks, marking their forces were pushed over, and the lord of Altamar could see it left a hole.

"Lord Wallace, someone took out the guards by this gate," the captain explained. "It gets better too, the gate shows acid damage. It won't stand against them." Captain Reynolds pointed towards the Orcs. "With their new shields, they have managed to get a battering ram to that gate. I give it an hour or less before they break it down."

Lord Wallace looked at the map, trying to find a fall back point for his forces. If the Orcs broke through, they'd need to fall back. They had planned for it, but they had expected both gates to fall. It would have to do. They'd call for the retreat, and reinforce their internal defenses. He didn't like that idea, as it took the stone walls out of the equation. It was better than possibly having his forces on the wall destroyed, by leaving a possible avenue for the Orcs to attack from.

"Have you called for the retreat, Captain?" Lord Wallace asked, his tone in control. Inside his insides were mush.

The captain replied, "I gave the order, told them to wait on your word."

"The word is given," Lord Wallace said. "Status of our sellswords?"

Captain Reynolds shook his head, "Our harassing groups suffered heavy casualties. Only one group lost just one, the rest are nearly obliterated. I sent people to find the Challengers."

"We are here," Kirann came into the room, catching the last bit of their conversation. "What is the situation, where are we needed?"

"Dire," Lord Wallace said.

Horns sounded across the wall, the soldiers doing their trainers proud. By waves they pulled off the wall, even as the pounding of the Orcish battering ram rang out. The last contingent of archers and their melee protectors hurried off just as the invaders busted down damaged portcullis. The cries of triumph from the Orcs hounded them, even as they ran lightning fast.

The defenders still fought valiantly. As they retreated, several stages stopped, fired a volley, and then fled some more. They repeated this procedure till they reformed at the predetermined line. Others may run screaming in terror, but not these Altamaran guards and soldiers. They would do their duty, even as it looked like it would be the end of them.

One unlucky archer was tripped by a thrown bolo. The Orc who threw it was nearly on top of him. He could smell the rancid hot breath of the porcine humanoid, imagined the axe head splitting him in twain. He nearly screamed as unbearable heat flew over his high and saw the blast of fire burn the chest off of his attacker.

"Time to go!" a hooded sorceress screamed. "Get to your friends." Then to the Orcs, "You face magic incarnate!"

She launched out a massive fireball that engulfed the Orcs pouring through the ruined gate. Immediately the new corpses erupted into a bonfire of hundreds of once living candles. The fireball had been aimed to temporarily plug the hole, leaving only a few inside to be dealt with. Which Leilani did with glee. She threw lightning at the two Orcs that rose up first. She then switched to fire streams.

Now with their charge halted, the Orcs fell as the defenders had reformed. Leilani waved at one Orc as she hopped over a barricade and made her way towards the castle. The defenders would hold, but she knew that Kirann would be there. If someone would have a plan, he'd be the one. Maybe a way to win this unwinnable position.

Walton came rushing from the Church of Tyr. Off in the distance were signs of battle inside the gate. He knew that the others would be meeting up at the castle, but he could give a little help before meeting up. His sword was already at the ready, its gleaming metal pulsing light as he ran towards the danger.

Despite Leilani's attempt, there were some groups of Orcs that had made it further into the city. Off in the distance large siege towers were depositing Orcs onto the walls. Some were taken out by the defenders, more made it through. Though the lines were holding, it was getting desperate. Walton planned on evening the odds as much as he could.

A small gap in the line was found, and it was an area the Orcs were hitting hard. Even broken, the defenders were fighting to reform the line. Instead of an organized, well drilled defensive attacks, it was a grand melee. Defenders and attackers were intermixed, fighting wildly with many falling each second. This was where Walton knew he was needed.

One defender fell, a savage slice ending them before they even knew they were dead. The Orc roared in victory, spotted Walton and smiled. The Orc rushed forward and was surprised as something white hot hit him. The Orc stopped, a confused look on his face. Something slipper fell from his midsection, and the Orc fell into oblivion. Walton didn't stop to watch his first target die.

Taking his gleaming sword he crashed into another Orc. That one fell in two parries and a savage slash. The next one lost its head, while its partner lose a right hand. That one fell back, and was crushed by an onrushing Orc fighter. Because of that, the onrushing Orc was off balance and received a stab that gutted it. Now Walton had their attention.

However, they weren't the only ones he had the attention of. On the wall, a pale human smiled as he watched the paladin fight. This would be perfect, such a fitting fate for one as noble as this Walton. The Pied Piper pulled a set of pan pipes from his cloak, and took a breath.

Walton was on a roll; Orc after Orc was falling before him and the defenders. He felt at peace doing what he was born to do. Defending the weak, fighting Evil, and protecting the innocent. It was what drew him to be a paladin, and a paladin of Tyr, the God of Justice. Walton's dream of being a paragon of justice became a reality with each Orc slain by his blade.

To his ears the battle became a symphony of clashes, grunts and steel upon Orc steel. There was a rhythm to the battle, a waxing and waning, a deadly dance. He was part of it, and he fell into the rhythm. Subtlety the symphony changed, it became more frantic, more desperate.

Walton became rushed, feeling overwhelmed as more and more Orcs came out of the woodworks. What had been a manageable flow had turned into a massive tidal wave. He felt desperation take his heart and he called out to Tyr. However, he didn't hear a response back, nor did he feel the infusion of power that came from his god. This mattered not, he had a job to do and it would be completed.

By instinct alone he wielded his blade with such proficiency that surely Tyr himself would be proud. Evil blood flowed around him, splattering his shining armor. He knew he couldn't stop yet, as more Orcs appeared every second. Where the other defenders gone, he wasn't sure, but eventually he would have to advance in the opposite direction. Even he couldn't hold a line by himself, not for a lack of trying.

He spun around and literally bisecting one enemy. Walton found himself without a target for the first time in several minutes, with the Orc horde holding and laughing. Confused he looked around, not seeing anything funny. Yet, he could definitely make out the horrid sound that Orcs called laughter. Were they crazy, did they find the slaughter of their own race hilarious?

Walton decided not to find out, and proceeded to head back to the line, and kept tripping over dead Orcs. Except they weren't. The weapons were wrong, finely made swords instead of the crude ones he was used to seeing. His plated boots made resounding thunks against the Orc bodies, as if they were welling steel breastplates.

Confused he looked around again, and a fog over his eyes lifted. Instead of Orc bodies all around him, he found defenders intermixed with them. All of them dead by a deadly sharp blade, one too sharp and fine to be caused by any Orc weapon. The two-handed sword in his hand, bathed in blood, it matched that just fine.

Walton fell, his sword clattering to the ground. This caused the Orcs behind him to laugh even harder. Pulling off his helmet, Walton heaved as the urge to vomit came over him. The extent of the horror he had just committed hit him unlike any other enemy before. What he had been driven to do, overwhelmed him and he wanted nothing more than to just die. Why, how had this happened?

"Excellent," the Pied Piper watched the paladin fall. "One down, six to go."

Lorinda was running to the castle when she saw Walton fall to his knees. Behind him were Orcs ready to strike. She unleashed a beam of solar energy, and ran towards him. Behind her, more defenders rushed to plug the hole in their line. Reaching him, Lorinda checked the paladin for wounds. He had a few minor wounds, but nothing to explain his lack of movements. She tried to get him moving again, only for him to remain a human stone weight.

"Come on! We need to get to the castle," she called out to him.

When he didn't respond, she turned to face him and that was when she saw it. A look of being a thousand yards away. His gaze was unmoving, like he was looking through her. The normally jovial, but serious human was lacking any emotion at all. She felt her own spirit crash. What could have caused this fine young man to become catatonic?

"Let's get you to the castle," she pulled him up and wrapped his arm around her.

One of the defenders picked up his fallen blade, and Lorinda helped the defender place it into Walton's sheath on his belt. The druid then half drug the paladin, feeling his weight with armor pulling her down. Luckily another defender took up the opposite side, and they both managed to get Walton to the castle.

Boris ran from the tavern and right into Manheim. Even though the wizard was taller than him, the Dwarf Fighter was heavier. As such he nearly bowled the human over. Running into a comrade was good luck indeed, as there were more Orcs to kill! Manheim might be a pansy wizard, but he wasn't bad in a fight.

"Come on, ye durned wizard, there are Orcs to fight!" Boris yelled in delight.

Manheim shook his head, "No, Boris. We have been betrayed. The city is going to fall, we need to flee."

"Who betrayed us?" Boris slapped his axe across his hand. "I'll take their heads!"

Behind his calm demeanor, Manheim smiled, "It was that damned warlock, Raven. She let the Orcs in. We need to get to Lord Wallace and make sure he hasn't been replaced."

"Replaced, how so?" Boris was listening intently now.

Manheim explained, "Raven's demon lord has sent one of his to replace Lord Wallace, changing his shape to fool our allies! Quickly, we must get to the castle and rescue the lord, or kill the duplicate."

"Lead on, wizard," Boris was already on the move. "We'll stop these bloody Orcs and that damned warlock. We'll send her back to meet her lord, a full head shorter."

Manheim followed behind the Dwarf. Meanwhile Val was herding some of the huddled citizens behind the new lines. Seeing an Orc coming up, having bypassed the other defenders, Val threw a dagger. It buried itself into the Orc, and she made sure it was dead with her two short swords. Behind her, the noncombatants hurried their pace, wanting to be far, far away from the battle.

Val retrieved her dagger, and turned to follow the others, only to see a small girl crying in an alleyway corner. The Half-Elf rogue went over to her, voice soft and reassuring. The little girl seeing her, instantly jumped into her arm. Val calmed the girl, letting her know she was safe.

She also knew they didn't have much time. That became more evident as more Orcish cries erupted far too close for Val's liking. She and the girl disappeared into a puff of smoke, leaving not a trace they had even been there. When they reappeared, it was with the others, and the little girl was left with her aunt. Val though had a place to go, and that was the castle. There her team would be.


	27. Chapter 27

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XXVII

"My lord," Captain Reynolds began, "our people are pulling back. We've lost the gate, but our new lines are holding. The bad news is we lost people during the fall back."

Lord Wallace knew the map well at this point, "What do you recommend, Captain?"

"I'd get your family and those we are protecting to the ships in the harbor," Captain Reynolds bluntly said. "We can fight, we can win, but our situation is becoming more desperate by the hour."

Lorinda entered then, blood stained her armor, where she had carried Wallace. She looked tired, more spiritual than physical. Right after her was a scared looking Val, who held onto the hilts of her two swords with a death grip. They still rested in their sheaths, but she felt better with her hands on them. Both women were glad when they saw Raven and Kirann.

"You two are safe! Have you heard from Manheim or Boris?" Lorinda asked.

Val, who noticed the war party they were crashing, said "Apologies for the interruption."

"Mistress Rogue, if you bring good tidings, all is forgiven," Lord Reynolds replied.

She shrugged, "All I bring is me."

"That may be enough," Kirann piped in. "A single grain of sand can tip the scales. Lord Wallace, I do agree with the captain."

"Captain, prepare my family and the DuValls for the journey," Lord Reynolds' voice carried the air of command on it. "Send them north towards Baldur's Gate."

"Milord, I request permission to stay with you. Lieutenant Miranda can defend them, she is unmatched in guile and resourcefulness," Captain Reynolds bowed slightly.

Lord Wallace let out a held in breath, "Agreed, Captain. Challengers, find your missing members, and then do what you do best. Defeat this challenge, rob us of this dark fate and replace it with a better one."

Kirann shot a fist up to his left shoulder, and motioned for the others to follow him. They left behind those pinning their hopes on an unlikely chance for success. Lorinda led them to a small room in the castle, where Walton sat with his head in his hands. He muttered something, but nobody could understand it.

"I found him like this, surrounded by dead soldiers," Lorinda explained. "He's in pain, but I don't know why. He also won't touch his sword."

The monk nodded, "I would say something bad happened with it. I just wish we had time to properly help him. Walton, I know you're in pain, but we need your help."

The paladin didn't even look up. Falling to the floor was a constant stream of tears, forming a puddle under Walton. He wasn't ready yet, and pushing him now would only harm him more. The worst part, Kirann knew that he may have to push him. With things becoming more dire, everyone would have to fight. Still, he gave his friend a warm hand on the back. If only things like this were easy to heal.

Stumbling into the room, Leilani was passed exhausted. Barely conscious, she fell into a nearby chair. Her clothing was damaged in several places, with her cloak looking like collected rags. Burns peppered her tunic, as did jagged strips, where Orcish weapons had gotten closer than she would have liked. Dried blood was spread across her clothing, some of it hers, most of it the enemy's

Lorinda handed her some water, while Raven handed her some dried field rations. The Drow sorceress hungrily wolfed down the provided food. Strength returned to her, even as she felt the need to sleep for a week. She gave them a silent thank you, before she noticed Walton in the room. Quickly she threw the mask back on, making her look like a regular Elf.

"So, this has been a bad day," she said sadly. "Do we have a plan?"

"Change fate," Kirann answered. "Have you seen Boris and Manheim?"

Leilani shook her head, "I haven't seen either. What kind of plan is change fate?"

"Things are bad, the only option we have is to try and make them better," Raven explained. "Till we find a way, planning beyond a few steps is likely to get us killed."

"Now I know for sure that we're in trouble," Val joked. "When even he's playing it by ear, things are bad."

"Let's find Manheim and Boris," Kirann said. "We'll need their help."

"I'll take Val," Leilani groaned as she got back to her feet. "We'll head for the tavern."

Kirann said, "That's fine, Lorinda, Raven and I will try the temples. We need to see if they were injured in the breach."

"We need to talk," Raven's patron decided to interrupt, talking in her head.

Wincing, she told the others, "I'll catch up with you."

She didn't miss Lorinda's questioning glared, but Kirann nodded. He led the druid away, while the sorceress and the rogue headed in a different direction. While they left, Raven looked for a place to have a private chat with her patron. He had been silent for so long, she was sure he was pleased with the knowledge she had been acquiring. A worse time though, it couldn't have come at.

"My little bird," her patron sneered. "We have a new contract. Tyrannus, the one behind this lovely slaughter, has need of information. The price has been agreed upon, and now you can earn more of my trust and more power."

"I would ask why, but you're both demons," Raven sighed. "What does he require?"

Her patron materialized a bit more showing more of himself than she had seen in a very long time. His wings had grown, and he was taller. Obviously the lore and knowledge his agents found, had increased his standing. His horns had grown out, and nearly touched the top of the room. What hadn't changed were those hungry yellow eyes.

Speaking, her patron made it clear the price, "It is a simple thing. Tyrannus knows there is an Aasimar in the city, and his standing in the Hells would improve by killing said Aasimar. Don't worry, you won't have to do the killing. Tyrannus just requires what you know of the monk, and how best to slay him."

Raven felt her stomach drop. Her patron had protected her, given her power to protect herself. He had gifted her the glamour that hid her true heritage, but he was still a devil. He had her spy on people, research lore and sold it to those with the resources. Nothing he had asked her to do was truly evil, but she had no doubt some of her work wasn't used for anything remotely good. This was the first time he was asking her for something that she considered a betrayal.

"Isn't there something else?" She asked, knowing the answer and her fate.

"No! You would be wise to give the information," the devil growled. "Do I need to remind you of the things I've done? How about that pretty face you wear? Do you think your new friends would be as loyal, if they knew what you were?"

Raven shook her head, "Not him, he's a good man."

"There is no such thing!" her patron screamed. "If he knew, he'd slay you without nary a thought! Now give me the information or I'll rip it from you thick skull."

Raven stood her ground, "No. I will not betray him, I will not betray them. Help me save this place, just think of the prestige you'd get from defeating such a powerful being."

"Yes, but you're easier to break," her patron said before he thrust out his hand, and it glowed a devilish red.

Raven screamed as a long, agonizing pain ripped through her head. She felt massive foot long talons digging into her brain, with each flex sending fresh waves of nauseating torture through her. Her world descended towards darkness, as her mind tried to escape the horrid punishment.

She couldn't allow it though. If she succumbed to the pain, her patron would have full access to her memories. Those memories could be used against her friends, so she fought to stay conscious. Even through the agony, she pushed back, tears long since having fallen down her cheeks. Pure determination pushed her on, and she felt her patron laugh at her attempts to keep him out. Then he was gone.

"Ah, such a strong will you have found," her patron snarled. "Let's see if you are so brave when all my gifts are gone.

He snapped his fingers and Raven felt a corrupted wind blow through her. Instantly she forced down the bile threatening to fly from her throat. Heaving, she tried to control her body, but still felt the rising vomit. All the while her patron laughed, and even harder as she saw her skin. It had returned to its rosy reddish tint, the one the glamour hid.

"Now choose! Your loyalty to these pathetic imbeciles, or to me," her partron said as he ripped the Khopesh from her belt. "See how weak you are? On your hands and knees before me. Now just tell me what I want, and you can have it all back."

"Go to Hell!" Raven managed to her feet, though not feeling as strong as she hoped she appeared.

Her patron looked disappointed, but drew back his clawed hands to end her, "You were my favorite you know. Always had a way to find what you sought, very inventive and curious. Too bad it ends here."

The devil slashed out, only to find his clawed hand held back. A wingless succubus pulled him to the side and quickly stabbed him with a small dagger. Raven's patron howled in pain, throwing Jaslyn against the stone wall.

He pulled out the dagger, and felt like his insides were coming with it. He let the nasty thing drop to the ground, and noticed the silver hue along the blade. She had stabbed him with a silver gilded blade. The cursed metal had opened him up and now his blood was leaking out in tremendous spurts. The succubus' aim had been good, leaving him with a regret. He wouldn't immediately be able to repay her for such insolence.

"You'll be back!" Raven's patron screamed as he disappeared into a burning portal of ash.

Jaslyn the succubus hurried over to Raven, steadying her, "Easy now. That took some guts. Isn't he the source of your power?"

Raven nodded, and she felt small. Small and weak, now that what made her a valued part of the team was gone. Worse, she now had to worry about those outside her group treating her like a plague. Her glamour had kept her from the worst parts of being a Tiefling, having to hide and watch her back constantly.

Deep down, there was something inside that was proud. She had stood up for her friend, and she had stood up to her patron. He may have given her power, but she chose how to use that power. He had tried to control her, force her to betray Kirann, but she hadn't given in. That said something, didn't it?

"Where'd you get the dagger?" Raven asked, knowing Lord Wallace wouldn't have allowed her to be armed.

Jaslyn smiled, "The lord of this place is smart, but there is only so much he can predict. However, I think this is one secret I'll keep, if you don't mind."

"I don't think I'm in a position to argue," Raven pulled her hood up, hiding her face.

The succubus laughed, "Probably not. So, it looks like you need a weapon."

A quick trip to the armory with Jaslyn, and Raven was armed with a "borrowed" cutlass. The weapon had a different feel then her Khopesh, but it handled well in her hand. She took a few test slashes with it, before putting the sword on her belt. Then she hurriedly left to find the others.

In the back of her mind, she worried about having to face them like this. Only Val had seen her without the glamour. For a brief moment the thought of leaving ran through her mind. It would be simple, and she could probably disappear in all the confusion. However, she felt the need to be here. These once strangers had become more, and she wasn't about to leave her family in dire straits. She just hoped that it didn't end with her death.

Lord Wallace and Captain Reynolds had left their war council to take a better look over the city. Much to their dismay, smoke rose throughout the areas the Orcs had taken. Sounds of battle made their way even to where they stood on the balcony. Below, sergeants prepared replacements to relieve those currently fighting.

Lord Wallace turned, hiding his face from those below. They didn't need to see the worry that lined his features. Nor did they need to see the calculations running in his head, figuring out which ones would die in defense of Altamar. What would his city look like after this was all said and done? Would he even want to know, much less see what remained?

His face brightened as the Dwarf fighter and human wizard of the Challengers walked into the room. Maybe things were looking up after all, with more of these wonderful people found. Heroes always had a habit of defying the odds, and the more heroes, the better. He called out to Boris and Manheim, but was confused as they attacked. More confusing was the horned, reddish skinned lady leaping out at the two Challengers.

Manheim let loose a spell of magical missiles. The spell flew true, but missed its target. Lord Wallace was pushed out of the way, and the spell hit Captain Reynolds. The armored man fell to the ground hard, with barely a grunt and was motionless. The wizard shrugged and began casting another spell.

Boris was already raising his axe high, to kill the counterfeit Captain Reynolds. He was going to destroy these monsters, avenging the fallen lord and the good captain. Somewhere behind him, he heard a yell for him to stop, but he ignored it. These demons and devils were always trying to trick mortals, but he, Boris, would not be tricked so easily. They would pay for all the pain this Orcish invasion was bringing.

Manheim felt a body slam into him, and he lost control of his spell. The wizard hit the ground and rolled twice before he got a good look at his attacker. Meanwhile his spell blasted into Boris' back, sending the Dwarf flying across the room. That was lucky, because Manheim knew he'd need the fighter's strength, if only as a diversion.

Manheim's sight though caused his brain to hiccup for a moment. There was a Tiefling, but wearing Raven's clothing. At first his mind was stuck as how to process this information, but then it made sense. He had always detected magic around Raven, and he couldn't figure out why. Now he knew, she had been using a glamour to hide her true self. This was too good to be true.

"Boris! It's her, the traitor!" Manheim shouted.

The wizard noticed almost too late, that Lord Wallace was bringing a massive two-handed sword at him. Manheim dodged, feeling part of his robes disappear under the sword's edge. He cast a quick holding spell, and that kept Lord Wallace from slicing him open with a follow up. Barely though, and the wizard knew he had to get things back under control fast.

Boris meanwhile was up and he rushed Raven. She shot out her blade and instinctively tired to call on an Eldritch Blast. When nothing came out, she heard a devilish snicker, and she silently cursed as she dodged. The enraged Dwarf kept after her, not giving her any room to rest. She slashed out, only for her weapon to slide off his shield.

Just when things couldn't have gotten worse for her, a portal opened up, blowing anything not held down up. Books flipped their pages, notes flew through the air, and the nearby globe shook as the portal expunged out five people. Instantly the portal closed with a loud snap.

"I'm telling you they are here," Bruce Robertson, court wizard said. "What the Hell!"

Before Manheim could take advantage on the confusion, Bruce sent out a blast of energy. Manheim slammed into the nearby wall, seeing stars and wondering how the court wizard had reacted so quickly. He managed a shielding spell before the other wizard's next spell.

"Boris, what are you doing?!" Kirann demanded as pushed the Dwarf away from Raven. "Explain yourselves!"

"My dear, Boris, the fiends have gotten the rest of our party, we must flee," Manheim said as he opened a portal. "Quickly before they dispel it!"

Confused Boris looked on for a moment, before he followed the wizard. As he leapt in, he turned around one last time, a deep feeling of sadness falling over him. Then the portal closed, leaving four Challengers, an upset wizard, angry lord and one nearly dead captain.

Lorinda tended to Captain Reynolds, while Bruce released Lord Wallace form Manheim's spell. Which left Val to stare as Kirann turned towards Raven, who was furiously pulling her hood up. The rogue felt ice in her blood for her friend, and was stuck on what to do. She had faith in the monk, but also felt terrified for Raven. Biting her lip, she waited to see how this played out.

"I'm sorry," Raven said, turning away from Kirann. "I just..I didn't know…"

Kirann turned her around, "Let me see you."

Reluctantly she pulled back her hood, letting it fall back to her shoulders. Reddish skin showed, as did her curving horns. Naturally wavy auburn hair framed her face, a face he knew well from their travels. It was her eyes though, beautiful pools of dark irises that were the color of tree bark, that told him all he needed to know.

Embracing her he said, "Raven, you never have to hide from me."

"I've got words for you!" called Lorinda from where she tended to Captain Reynolds.

Kirann helped Captain Reynolds to a nearby chair, leaving Lorinda free to poke a finger into Raven's chest. Val went to her friend's side, and instantly found herself on one of Lorinda's patented looks of warning. Leilani wisely pulled the Half-Elf rogue away, knowing that the druid and Raven needed to finish this.

"This whole time?" Lorinda asked.

Raven nodded, "Yes, it was easier for me."

"Why didn't you tell us?!" the druid demanded.

Raven came clean, "I was afraid. I've been run out of every town I've ever lived. When I found my patron, he gave me the glamour. For the first time, I wasn't a target. I didn't keep this from you to hurt you, just to protect myself."

Lorinda then did the one thing Raven didn't expect, she pulled her into a tight hug. The druid pulled her in tight, and the ex-warlock felt herself melting. This was an act of love, not passion, not romantic, just the love of one sister to another. With everything that had happened, she felt her walls crumble, hence the tears.

"Blasted fool, we run with a Drow!" Lorinda said. "I think I could have dealt with a Tiefling."

"You what?!" Lord Wallace interjected. "What Drow?"

Kirann looked at Leilani, and she pulled the mask off. Captain Reynolds tensed up, expecting another attack and Lord Wallace felt his mouth drop. He looked over to Kirann, only to find the monk relaxed. Lord Wallace at that point needed a seat, and didn't mind one bit he plopped straight into the nearest chair.

"You know, at this point, I just don't care," Lord Wallace said. "You all have been life savers, but now I have to ask why."

Kirann answered, "Because in the long run it doesn't matter. You, I trust, your court is not you. Had they known, tested my companions they would have. To what end, we will never know. The risk to them outweighed any issues."

"Did you know?" Lord Wallace looked at Raven.

Kirann said, "I still see her as she has always been. There is a light inside of her that is luminous. The form it takes matters not."

"What strange times we live in," Lord Wallace sighed. "We'll continue this after we save Altamar."

"Agreed," Kirann said. "We need to get back to what we do best."

Raven smiled, "The impossible."


	28. Chapter 28

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XXVIII

The defenders of Altamar were stubbornly holding their city. Now inside the walls, the Orcs were rampaging and suffering horrible deaths. Whomever had come up with the defense of the city, had prepared for small scale guerilla like warfare once the walls were breached. The Pied Piper looked over the piled of his dead troops, and the multitudes that reinforced them.

He had to give it to the defenders, their casualties were heavy after the initial retreat, but had dropped off. The pendulum had swung back, but not for long. The whole strength of the defense was behind the lines attacking, while other soldiers held the line. If they could break that new defensive line, then the harassing attacks would be significantly less effective. Which he knew was near.

Not only were the defenders on the line bloody and tired, but thanks to his little musical instrument, they were doomed. Strategizing, he wandered if causing insanity or sapping their wills would work out better. Sapping their wills would make them sluggish, wounds would be heavier, and loss of energy would make them drop where they stood.

Insanity though, that could cause more. As shown by the Challenger's goody two shoes paladin, the defenders could be broken. Seeing their fellows as potential enemies would shatter their teamwork; seeing the carnage they wrought on their own lines, would destroy their minds and souls. Delectably wonderful this option was, and this is what the Pied Piper decided on. The only thing missing was a mustache for him to twirl, though the twitching of his bony wings was close enough.

Watching him were the remains of the Challengers, and Bruce Robertson. They had scried for the leader of the Orcish army. When the Pied Piper had shown up, they had their target. The hope was that taking out the leader would take out the Orcs organization. It was a long shot, but the best they had. There was also no guarantee that Wizard Robertson would be able to open another portal back up for them, once the attack was done. They couldn't risk opening a doorway, if it brought the invaders closer to Lord Wallace.

"Do it," Kirann said.

He prepared as wizard spoke the incantation that would bring forth the magical doorway. They'd have to be quickly through, and they'd have to attack quickly. The evil bard had kept space between him and the Orcs, and they'd have a limited time to take him out before they were surrounded. He was the first through as the doorway opened.

Horrid music filled the air, and the soldiers began to scream as the insanity began to overtake them. Sights and sounds began to twist into nightmare beyond imagining, with enemies all around them. The piercing, blood curdling garbles of screams rang out, and the Orcs began to laugh. Before them the armored Humans ripped at their heads, metal helmets thrown to the side and clumps of hair ripped out.

The Pied Piper smiled as he played the pan pipes, certain in his knowledge that none could withstand its effect. Behind him a great wind buffeted him, as the change of fortune swung back to his side. Beyond the screams came a harsh roar came from behind. He disregarded it as a group of Orcs coming up behind him. It did sound oddly familiar, and something made the hairs on his neck stand on end.

Then the world went temporarily black. A large force smacked into his head and he fell forward, landing against the ground with a thud. The horrid pan pipes skittered across the battlefield, with a lithe figure running after them. Meanwhile Lorinda had her staff blade weapon at the ready to end the Pied Piper, once and for all.

Instead all of the heroes were blown back by an invisible force, "Tricky, tricky little mice. Don't worry, I have sent your little wizard friend some presents."

Leilani let loose a fire stream, only for it to be deflected by the same invisible force. Next, she found herself being shoved to the ground. Above her hovered the discarded battering ram from before, and it fell. Strong hands yanked her, and the battering ram slammed just inches away from the top of her head. Eyes wide with fright, she looked for her rescuer. There, looking just as scared as she, was Raven.

Tyrannus, the Boss, called out to the two women, "Very good, you're quick."

Before the devil could cast another spell, a splinter of pure agony ripped through him. He sent out an attack, only for two more splinters of agonizing pain to sweep over him. Turning his gaze, Tryannus looked for the cause and his eyes narrowed in recognition. A bright man, glowing with the light of the celestials stood before him. Wings of pure light erupted from his back and the man was coming right at him.

Lorinda cast a lightning bolt, hoping to give Kirann the edge against the huge devil. The thing stood about twelve feet, and cast off an aura of decay. The deep purple of the devil's skin, with the bone white protrusions scattered along his arms, all of that didn't matter to the Aasimar monk. She knew he was going to fight it with all he was worth and more. She was about to cast another, when a large cracked reverberated against her skull.

"I'll enjoy making you pay for that, Elf," The Pied Piper screamed, blood pouring from the front of his head.

He pulled a rapier off his belt and thrust it at Lorinda. She managed to roll out of the way, but his blade still tore at her leather armor. Beneath it, she felt a slight pain, and her mind went to the possibility of a wound. She couldn't focus on that, as his rapier was back and thrusting at the weak points of her armor. This time she brought up her blade staff, and sent out a kick. The Pied Piper rolled, which gave her some room, but she was still within his strike zone.

Tyrannus swung out his demonic axe blade, meaning to bisect Kirann in half. Instead the flying man slammed a fist into the devil's chin. The blow hurt, but was inconsequential to the huge devil. As if swatting a fly, the devil backhanded Kirann. The monk fell back to the ground, catching himself before he hit. Back up he rocketed and this time landed a savage kick to the devil's temple.

The roar of the devil brought the attention of the Orcs to the battle within their lines. Leilani saw them coming and knew she had to do something. Luckily her comrades weren't close enough to be hurt by what she intended to do. Pulling the magic in her, she cast a fireball. Orcs flew into the air as the concussive force hit them, while a good portion of the oncoming horde disappeared into ash.

One though was safe, and cast magic missile at her. Leilani dodged, but then found herself in the crosshairs of an Orc with a bow. In that moment she felt like the last few moments of her life were about to proceed. There was always a chance the Orc would miss, but she was caught dead to rights.

Instead the archer fell to the ground quickly, blood pooling around it. The Orc shaman was caught off guard as a knife sank into its eye. The shaman didn't have time to worry about a life as a one eye, or the prestige that would bring it. A magical attack destroyed the shaman's head. The newly beheaded body fell to the ground with a wet squelch.

Behind the now dead archer, Val popped up and saluted Leilani. The Drow sorceress returned it, relieved and glad that the Half-Elf had been there. Also noting to thank the heavens she had survived, after they had won this battle. Till then, she had more work to do as more Orcs were incoming. How long she and Val could hold them off was probably down to the minutes.

Kirann rolled as he came crashing down to the ground. His glow still pulsed as he fought, like a beacon in the night. The glowing wings disappeared, but his fists were still hitting with the force to break walls. The devil swung at him, and the monk dodged before counter attacking. Three hits all around the devil's ankle caused Tyrannus to growl in frustration, but didn't bring him down.

Instead the devil kicked out, sending Kirann rolling across the ground. He got back up, bleeding from his nose and mouth. His clothes torn, and dirt caked his normal robes, he wheezed as he tried to pull air back into his lungs. To fight he needed to live, to live he needed to breathe, and to breathe he needed some time to recover. Unfortunately, the devil wasn't going to allow that.

Walton's head lay on the counter of the tavern bar. Numerous glasses of ale sat empty around him. Another glass sat half full in front of him, and because of all the drink, the voices were gone. The ghosts of his kills were silent now, their accusatory words unable to reach him. He could still see them, and they were getting angrier. At least he couldn't hear them. He could close his eyes and they'd be gone.

"Sir Walton?" came a tired, but feminine voice. "Walton, it's Angelique, do you remember me?"

"Go away," he groaned. She was obviously alive, because the dead he couldn't hear.

"This is not state for a knight of Tyr," she said. "Do you want to talk about it?"

This time he roared, "I thought I said to go away!"

"I can't do that," she said softly. "You are needed, more than you know."

Walton shook his head, "They are all better without me. Now leave me!"

"Listen, I don't know what happened, but you can talk to me," Angelique put a soft hand on his shoulder.

He shoved her hard enough to send her two steps back, "I said leave me! I just want to be left alone."

"And why is that, Paladin?" her voice changed, an edge forming on it. "You sit in here like a petulant child, screaming while your friends are out there. They are fighting to save this city. Now tell me, what can I do to help you?!"

He swung his hand to his sword, ready to stop her screeching by slicing her in twain. Anger flared through his pain riddled skull, effects of the hangover soon to come. However, he stopped as he looked at her. She was beautiful to him, but that wasn't what stopped him. Instead it was the conviction on her face, the total lack of fear of him. A fully armored and armed man, and she was defiant in just her cloth robes.

Walton lowered his blade, "It is better if I'm not out there. Not after what happened."

"I know something bad happened, and I know you blame yourself," Angelique said, her voice soft again. "I also wish I could allow you the time to heal, but we are all in trouble."

He fell back onto his stool, "How bad is it?"

"Your friends fight a horde of Orcs, a Fallen Aasimar and a devil," she said. "They need you."

"I..my abilities…they, they would be better without me," he said.

She came over and pulled him up, "They just need you. You can still make a difference. Afterwards you come back, and I'll help you."

Val jumped form Orc to Orc, stabbing and slicing through the horde. She didn't have time to plan or think, she just attacked the nearest on to her and went to the next. Blasts of magic hit all around her, taking out the Orcs that were sneaking up behind Val. Leilani using a combination of her natural magic abilities and several wands.

Val eviscerated another Orc, reached into her belt and found another throwing dagger. Tossing it, she hit an Orc that had flanked Leilani. The Drow sorceress sent a silent thanks, concentrating on trying to survive. All down her visible skin, patches of scales had appeared, and they glowed with a golden light.

The Pied Piper was on the defensive. Lorinda's blade staff turned his rapier, and he had to dodge as the opposite end sliced down towards him. He pulled away, looking to reengage with advantage. Only she called forth entangling roots, and he found himself having to really work to stay alive. Like nature, she was deadly when furious. As if he needed more evidence, she got through his defenses.

The Pied Piper fell to the ground, blood dripped to the ground from an open wound on his chest. It ran from his hip to his left shoulder, with everything between sliced open in a straight line. More blood flowed, and he could feel his energy began to wane. It was a critical wound, one that could easily become mortal. He only had one chance. Reaching to his belt he pulled out a wand and shot it at the druid.

Lorinda flew back, and the Pied Piper fled. As he did, a glass shattered, as the phial he had drunk was thrown to the ground. He wanted space, needed the space to mend. His only relief was seeing the Boss destroy the Aasimar monk. That left him with a pained smile on his face.

Kirann swung his fist, breaking the devil's nose with a loud crack. Like a clap of thunder, the nose broke and the devil snarled. The monk barely moved as a massive blade hit beside him. However, he didn't dodge the blunt side as the devil brought the blade back around. He felt the air being pushed out of him, and he felt the hard stone of a nearby wall. He coughed, blood coming out as he did so.

On instinct he shot out a sun bolt, and it luckily hit the devil square in the eye. Tyrannus howled as he clawed at his ruined eye. Kirann stood, ready to fire again when an Orc got through and slammed straight into him. The Orc raised its axe, ready to end him, while behind it Tyrannus had regained his composure.

Tyrannus squashed the Orc, and pulled Kirann up to face him, "Little Aasimar, this day will see your end. I will take your soul and make you my personal slave for a thousand generations. How does that sound?"

"You..you…you should look behind you!" Kirann managed, speech was painful and something inside felt like it was broken.

Before Tyrannus could ask what he meant, Raven sunk her borrowed cutlass into the heel of the devil. Tyrannus kicked back, opened his mouth to howl in pain and was rewarded with searing pain. A bright sun beam pierced the soft tissue of the devil's throat, causing it grievous damage.

As such, Tyrannus dropped the monk and he crumpled to the ground. Raven quickly went to him, and turned to face the devil over him. She was without her power, she was just a lowly mortal facing down a great evil. Just like Kirann, but he still had his power. He hadn't stood a chance, what chance did she have? Yet, she knew that she couldn't leave him here. So, her choice was made. She would protect him, and probably die with him.

Lorinda saw her friend fall, saw Raven stand over him. The Tiefling's armor was scarred, but she still stood by him. The druid didn't have time to cast a spell, as the Orcs were almost overwhelming her and Val. Even with Leilani, who was moving slower and slower, they were going to be overrun soon. They needed more, what she wasn't sure, just that needed more.

A great roar caused the Orcs around them to pause, and it was enough time for Lorinda to see a great blade come crashing down. The Orc fell to the ground, and another was taken out as the wielder of the blade screamed again. She felt a slight relief as Walton came crashing and slashing through the Horde. How he reached them was easy to see, there were countless Orc bodies littering the path he had taken.

Kirann was in pain, more pain than he could ever remember being in. Beneath it all he heard a voice, it started out small but soon gained in power. He struggled to hear it, vaguely aware that time had slowed around him. He knew Raven was standing over him, and he could see the devil's clawed hand come down at her.

"Your greatest strength is in your heart, it is a pure one," his master had told him. "Your heritage will also give you power, and you can use it. We train so that you can harness your abilities without thinking, fighting on an elevated plane of instinct merged with thought. Body and mind work in tandem with the spirit."

Kirann saw the blade coming for Raven, knew she wasn't going to see it for her attention was on the massive fist coming at her. He needed to move, he needed to save her. His body was battered. The spirit was willing, but he was still unable to move. He had to, but didn't know how.

"When mind, body and spirit are synced, when your two sides are in harmony, there is nothing you can not achieve." Kirann's master said. "You are drawn to avenge Evil, but it is insidious. Your wisdom will help illuminate it. However, your greatest abilities will show when you ascend past your previous limits."

Kirann looked past the devil and Raven. Piercing the layers of smoke and the clouds in the sky was the sun. The life-giving light that bathed the world and allowed life to flourish. The same light that fended off vampires and turned certain monsters to stone. It bathed him and all those fighting in its warmth.

"I have taught you all that I know, my student," Kirann's master continued. "It is time for you to go out into the world and find your place. Go now, test your limits, surpass them and exceed the barriers before you. Ascend, claim your birthright!"

From the center of Kirann, a small flame barely flickered. Into it went the images of his friends in danger, Raven standing over him about to perish. He saw before when he had been out amongst the citizens of Altamar. A little girl playing with her brother. A kitten mewing for its caretakers to pet it, and a dog licking the face of a crying child.

Other images came. The sight of the DuValls comforting each other as he and his team took them from their home. Lorinda hugging Raven, and Val standing free, her accuser being trotted off to jail. He saw grateful farmers offering what little they had, for his party destroying a demon boar.

The flame erupted into a conflagration. From it came light, and that light filled him completely. From crown to foot he was filled, and reformed. Energy returned to him, as if the world around him was feeding him. It erupted out of him in pulsing waves, and Kirann's eyes snapped open.

Raven recognized her mistake, as the devil's sword come at her. Her borrowed sword wouldn't stop that, and it was too late for her to set it up for a parry. In just a few moments, she'd be in two pieces, and her final stand hopefully doing enough to save the town.

She let out a breath and began to sing, "In the arms of the angel.."

Just then light blasted all around her and the devil snarled in pain, clawing at its eyes. A radiant fist smashed into it, leaving a burned imprint of the hand on its cheek. The devil howled again, but this time there was terror withing that howl. Looking at what had hit it, Tyrannus knew fear. A golden figure of pure sunlight stood across, equal to his height at twelve feet. Golden light wings pumped, as the being prepared to rush forward.

"Sum Kirannus Lichtus," Kirann bellowed. "Sum lux et ignis."

Worse, more lights were appearing all around the being, and Tyrannus knew he had to flee. Those were other celestials, and he wasn't prepared to fight off an army of them. Instead he fled, snapping the Pied Piper as he left. The Fallen Aasimar still had his uses, especially after Tyrannus was done "educating" him.

With them gone, the Orcs fell into their usual fighting tactics. This caused the defenders to quickly push them back. Now with their tactics reverted back to more primitive means, the more advanced ones of the Altarans won the day. Soon the Orcs fled back to the hills, but not before more had died and death stained the streets of Altmar and rivers of blood ran down them.

Kirann returned to his normal size and fell to the ground exhausted. Raven was right by his side, worried as he slowly drifted off. Tears fell off her face, as she continued to sing. He felt her magic flow into him, and realized something that she hadn't till now. He knew what her real gift was. She was never meant to be a warlock, but rather had the ability to wield bardic magic. A smile formed on his face as he descended into rest and recuperation.

"Kid!" Al flew down from the host of celestials that had come towards the end of the battle.

"Leave him alone!" Raven snarled, her cutlass quickly pointed towards him.

"Hush child! You both are on the same side," a new voice that commanded respect rang out. "Ah! You clever boy, I was wondering how you were going to do that! Very clever."

"Who are you?" Raven asked, not realizing her cutlass was dropping.

The old woman had a kindly face and appeared to be from Kara-Tur. A land of samurai and monks, they had brought the martial arts Kirann now practiced to Faerun long ago. Her almond shaped eyes were wrinkled, but still full of life. There was great compassion exuding form her, and Raven found herself feeling comfortable around her.

"To him, I am a friend," the old woman said. "To others I am a warm, friendly voice that brings comfort. To the damned I am the small hope of redemption." She then turned to Al, "He will be fine, though he has surpassed his limits."

The woman looked back to Kirann. Gently she touched his forehead with her hand, hummed a tune that sounded familiar and foreign. She whispered something into his ear, and then looked up. Smiling, she embraced Raven, warmth spreading through her body. Tears welled up in her eyes, falling like a waterfall. Whatever or whomever this woman was, she left a cleansing feeling.

"Young one, your heritage means nothing against your choices," the old woman said. "Your heart has been shown today; it is selfless, loving and loyal. He is very lucky to have you in his life. You may call me Kwan Yin."

I felt his change from across the world and became curious about this warrior. More I can not say, but in time you both will find out. I look forward to the next time we meet."

With that the old woman vanished, and even Al was caught off guard by her departure. Instead he went back over to his charge, which is when he felt the change. Kirann was different, yet the same. Something about his power, his inner ki was different. It seemed more blended with the inherited abilities of his Celestial side. What this meant, even he didn't know. One thing was for sure, life was only going to get more interesting for his charge.


	29. Chapter 29

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XXIX

The fleeing Orcs ran into right into the allied forces of Tyranfal and Wyrvern's Rest. Both sides were clearly shocked by the other being there, but that only lasted for a moment. The allied fighters quickly finished off the Orcs, and those that weren't immediately slain, fled. Casualties were light on the allied fighters, and many cheered in their overwhelming victory.

Those cheers fell to silence as Altamar came into their view. The marching soldiers stopped in horror as they gazed upon the city. Bodies lay all around, most Orc, but too many of the city's defenders mixed in. Bellows of smoke wafted into the air as fires took building after building. The twisted gate looked like a fallen sentinel, broken and twisted. Fallen in its duty, the gate struck those coming to the city's aid like a rock.

Then calls were sent out by someone manning the walls, and the allied soldiers saw people moving about the walls. They soon marched double time, rushing forward and to an even more magnificent sight. More people were moving about, healers were running from wounded to wounded. The flags of Altamar still stood, and soon another one was raised above the damaged gate.

Altamar was damaged but was still alive. Those marching to their defense felt their spirits rise. The city would be hurting, but they had persevered. New songs and stories would be sung and told. Not a single guard or warrior in Altamar's defense would buy their own drinks for quite some time. Most of all though, a new precedent had been set. Now when facing adversity, the people would talk about having an Altamaran constitution.

While the defenders began to restore order, and the allies coming in to assist, someone was skulking about. A lone fighter, scarred from many battles walked the streets, looking into broken window after broken window. Glass crunched beneath his boots and raging fires still burned in some of the shops. He felt the heat, but he paid it no heed.

With each step he left a red footprint. That didn't matter either. All that mattered was finding what he needed. Peering into each window, he tried to remember which shops were on down this way. All the other shops he had visited had either still been intact, or was missing the item. Those still standing had guards or private security watching them. He wanted to stay away from those, as there had been enough violence for one day.

That thought was almost foreign to him. There was a time when he would have fought for the slightest insult, and when he used to fight for fighting's sake. The priest and wizard, poor Emily, had been good for him. They hadn't mellowed him out, as much showed him the proper time to fight, and what to fight for. He thought he was protecting them, but in the end they saved him.

Despite himself, a single tear ran down his rugged cheek. His younger self would have taken this as a reason to blitz himself with drink and not remembered anything for a week. However, Emily was worth remembering. She and the priest were worth the pain he now felt. He wasn't worthy of them, and the fact they stood with him, said a lot about them. It was why he loved them, and this was true love. They were his family.

Seeing a store for religious artifacts and reagents, he entered. More blood fell as he climbed into the ruined store. He ignored the pain and dug through the remains. Show cases were smashed, bookshelves were turned over, and the whole place was completely demolished. As such things were completely beyond use.

The fighter cursed as he saw the ruined reagents. The Orcs had ruined everything in here worth having. He felt his heart sink as kept coming up empty, and wishing he had brought someone who knew more about reagents with him. He knew what the priest needed, but not what any other class might need.

He resisted the urge to kick something, Emily would have told him to focus. She always saw things; she was very perceptive. She used to tell him that she just took a moment, and a breath, before she looked. That way she was ready to see what was there, and not rush headlong into danger. That was the fighter's gig.

Despite himself, more tears fell down and he just let them come. The wizard reminded him of what he wanted his own daughter to be. Kind, caring, smart, and confident, all these things he wished for her. The little girl loved it when Emily came by and they had become close. She was going to take Emily's death hard. He couldn't think about that, he had a mission.

So, he did what the wizard had always said she did. He took a deep breath, let it out and looked at the destroyed magic shop. Littered items abounded, and the fighter felt a scream raising from his chest, when he saw it. A small glint in the sunlight, which caused him to dig like a mad man.

Where he had been sitting, a pool of blood remained. It didn't matter, he had to dig. His hands hurt and his fingers were shredded. He didn't stop, just kept going. Debris flew by him, till he felt the cool touch of metal. Pulling with all his might, he dislodged the rod with a broad smile. The fighter ran back out of the destroyed shop and towards where the priest was.

The priest sat looking over the body of Emily, his body and spirit wiped out. Since her death, he hadn't fought, hadn't moved from his vigil. He had helped out with the wounded, but was never more than ten feet from his love's body. They had removed the spear that had killed her, and had dressed her in white vestments. He had always thought her first white dress would be on their wedding day.

The other priests and priestess were giving him a wide berth, more out of respect than anything else. With the fighting having finished, they were busy enough trying to save lives. They had told him to rest, because his skills would be needed as more wounded came in. Beyond saving what he could, there was nothing else for him. She was gone, and he didn't know how to go on without her.

Commotion came from his side, but the priest didn't look up. Not till a form slammed down near him. He looked up to see the fighter pulling himself back up. The priest helped the armored man up, his hands wet now. He was just about to go off on the fighter for drinking, getting falling down drunk, when the fighter slammed a rod into his hand. The priest looked confused till the fighter spoke.

"Bring her back," the fighter said. "That is a rod of resurrection. Bring Emily back."

Realizing what was in his hand, the priest immediately turned it and aimed. Back during seminary, they had taught them how to use magical rods like these. The magic was stored inside, and many an adventuring company kept one around for instances just like these. They were expensive, which meant the priest on purposely didn't ask who the fighter had acquired such an item. He followed the law, but for her, the priest was willing not to ask questions that would weigh on him.

He concentrated as he had been taught and felt energy erupt out of the rod. He saw a luminous golden light bathe Emily's body. He dropped to his knees and the light gently absorbed into her body. Seconds flew by as minutes, which felt more like hours to them. Both fighter and priest waited for the first breath, waited for Emily's spirit to rejoin her body. Both held their breaths, waiting for the miracle the fighter had brought in.

With one ragged breath, Emily returned to the world and both men cheered. The priest grabbed her up, embracing her tightly. The fighter stood back, a feeling of mission accomplished filling him. More than that, more like he finally did something right. She had always told him he was better than he knew, and that day he had finally proven her right. He had done good.

"What happened?" Emily asked. "I felt myself falling and then somewhere else."

"You're back," was all the priest could say. "I'm never letting you out of my sight again."

Emily pulled his head to her chest, "It's okay, I'm okay." Seeing her white clothing, "I think there more to this story."

It was then that the fighter fell over. It was also then that the priest realized his hand had left reddish streaks across Emily's white funeral dress. Looking at his hand, the same one that held the resurrection rod, it was covered in blood. It wasn't his blood, as he discovered wiping his hand clean on his vestments. Looking at the fallen fighter, he instantly knew.

All around the fighter was blood, and the priest was by his side. Rolling the fighter over, the priest called on his deity. Without his full rest done, he hadn't regained all of his healing abilities. The best he could do was a small, light wounds like heal. Which as the priest soon found out, was very much too little. The fighter's body was decimated by wounds, and even if the priest had been at full strength, still may have been beyond his skill.

"What happened?" Emily asked, her voice quivering as she saw one of her friends dying.

The fighter smiled, "Old man dies, young woman lives. Fair trade."

"No! You can't die!" Emily screamed. "You have to live. Think about Rianna, she still needs her dad."

"Emily, she's been fine without me for all these years," the fighter weekly said. "She needs you and Jeremiah. You both are the role models she deserves. I'm just.."

"You're more than hired muscle," the priest, Jeremiah countered. "You called me your brother, and you're right. We are family."

The fighter nodded, his skin becoming pale, "You both showed me I could be better. I finally got to repay you."

With that the fighter's breathing became increasingly shallower, till his breathing had stopped all together. Emily fell into Jeremiah's arms as more priests came to help, to no avail. Jeremiah tried to comfort her, even as he tried to deal with the massive whiplash in emotions. All the while two more stretchers were brought in.

For the priest, he had his love back, but he had lost a man who proved to be better than a friend. He mourned the loss of a brother in arms, all the while elation fought with the return of Emily. All he could do was pray, and he called out to his deity to grant him a miracle. He had tried it when Emily had fallen, but the fighter deserved just as much. He added to the end of his plea, that the fighter be allowed into the heavens, if he couldn't be saved.

One of the attendants carrying in the two stretchers was Captain Reynolds, the other was one of his lieutenants, Ellen Winstead. They noticed the crowd forming around the faller fighter. They set down Kirann and Raven, one was still unconscious, the other aggravated at being treated like glass. Instantly Raven was up, and holding Kirann's hand, letting him know she was still there.

As Emily's tears hit the ground, a shift happened in the Aasimar monk. His eyes opened and he weakly sat up. Raven tried to keep him laying down, but knew she wasn't going to win this battle. Instead she took his arm and helped him up. Together they made their way over to the gathered group. Upon seeing the resurrected wizard and the dying fighter, Kirann began to glow again.

Reaching down he put a hand on the fighter's head, "Fierce warrior, may you find your way to paradise."

"I'm not sure he would like that," Emily said. "He's a good man, but one that thrives on fighting. His whole life was one big fight, till he got to our little party."

Jeremiah smiled, "His life was hard, but he found one with us. Still fighting, but for a better purpose. Big lug was better than he knew."

Kirann nodded, "Rest now, your fight is over."

"My fight is never over," the fighter said, but the voice came not from his body.

All gathered saw the fighter, bathed in a holy aura. Armored in angelic plate and wielding a polearm of fire, the fighter brought his fist up to his chest. He gave the priest and wizard a smile before he disappeared into a flash of light. As he did a sense of peace fell over those gathered.

The dead body of the fighter began to cool, and his friends stood over it with the knowledge he lived on. Somewhere, under some god's command, he was still fighting. Like the fighting he did for them, this would be in the service of something greater than him. Which left them with the need to send him off properly. They would be secure in the knowledge, somewhere out there, their friend as raising hell for the side of good in the Heavens.


	30. Chapter 30

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XXX

Hours later, with the sun setting, Altamar began to return something like normal. People began to dig out of the rubble, with cleaning out the mess a priority. In days rebuilding would begin, with Lord Wallace aiding in the efforts. The other nobles, whose properties had been protected, for the most part, were asked to chip in as well. At first there was some push back, but the surprise visit by the Tyranfal delegation changed that. Lady Byron was at the lead, ahead waves of nobles bringing wagons of supplies.

Seeing her example, the nobles soon found themselves vigorously donating to the rebuilding. That left Lord Wallace room to work on rebuilding Altamar's losses. More soldiers and guards had to be trained, taking up the arms of those who had been lost. It also left him with enough room for a project, one that he hoped would help keep his people inspired. Then there was the matter of the miracle that had happened recently.

"So, explain to me about this fighter," Lord Wallace told his captain.

Captain Reynolds told what he knew, "Apparently he was part of the harassing parties."

"Those we lost when the Orcs wised up," Lord Wallace interjected.

The captain nodded, "Yes, that is correct. While his friend looked over the fallen wizard, he helped maintain our defenses. Running from battle to battle, he fought harder than any man on the battlefield. Some even made jokes that he had demon blood in him, or divine, like our monk friend."

"When was he wounded?" Lord Wallace asked.

Captain Reynolds paused, thinking, before he answered, "We know not, my lord. After he fell, the healers removed all his armor in pieces. It looks like the only thing holding him and the armor together was pure force of will. They lost count of the number of wounds he had received."

"He lived long enough to retrieve a resurrection rod?" Lord Wallace stopped and looked at his city.

The captain agreed, "Yes, and already we have a complaint from a shopkeeper about it being stolen. However, with the attack, my guards aren't going to find out what happened any time soon."

"That's okay, keep them on giving aid to those in need," Lord Wallace said. "Do make a small donation to the shop for their service during these trying times."

"Will do, sir," Captain Reynolds smiled as they both started moving again. They had much more work to do before either of them could rest.

At the same time, a lone Tiefling was stretching her legs. Thankfully and maybe just a bit irritatingly, Kirann was on the mend. The way he healed; she'd be surprised if he wasn't doing backflips by dinner. She on the other hand still felt like she'd been pulverized paste. There wasn't a place or joint that didn't hurt, even her horns ached. Raven at least wasn't worried about being seen.

Even though many people kept their distance still, none looked at her with outright hostility. It could be because she faced down a devil, which she was still wrapping her head around, or extended respect given to all the Challengers. She wasn't going complain and was willing to take any change to public opinion. Now that her glamour was gone, there was nothing to hide behind.

In front of her a portal opened, disgorging Bruce Robertson and a woman carrying a lute. The court wizard waved at Raven and signaled for his guest to follow him. The ex-warlock decided curiosity trumped weariness. She went to meet them, feeling better that her borrowed cutlass was still attached to her belt.

"Miss Raven," the wizard beamed, "this is Bastilla Riversong. She is a bard of well renown."

The bard interrupted, "No offense my dear wizard, but she looks confused. This lovely guy right here said you were looking for a teacher, someone to show you the ropes."

"I don't know.." Raven started to protest, but she was cut off.

Bruce chuckled, "Kirann said you had potential as a bard, something about the voice of the wind on a summer's day, carrying the scent of revivification on it. Well not in so many words, our dear friend is most Spartan in his speech."

"I think I'm going to kill him," Raven sighed.

Bastilla smiled, "I've traveled all this way, why don't you sing a bar for me? The wizard here seems to think you are a natural."

"She is!" Bruce exclaimed. "Our mutual monk friend is pretty good at seeing beyond to the truth of the matter."

Raven looked like she wanted to run. In fact, she had three distinct paths to flee already in her mind. Something though made her stay. A memory of standing against death, letting her voice rise and a feeling of power with it. She had just blamed it on Kirann's remarkable resurgence, but now she wondered. Had there been more going on than she realized?

"Listen, I know it's terrifying to perform in front of an audience like this, impromptu," the bard gently said, her voice full of soothing grace. "How about we go find a quiet place, where you'll feel a little less vulnerable."

Without realizing he was being led away, Raven soon found herself heading towards walls of Altamar. The wizard, Bruce Robertson disappeared into a flash of light. That left the two women to meander around, till they found a nice quiet spot. Checking around, Bastilla sat, and pulled her lute around to play.

She warmed up her hands, checked the tuning on her instrument and played a few bars. Raven instantly knew the song; it was a well-known tavern song. The words were there, and she at first softly began to sing. Then as she focused on the playing, something inside let go and out came the words like a lovely torrent of renewing energy.

Before she knew it, her voice echoed off the alleys and walls. Which is when she snapped back to the present, feeling increasingly aware of how loud her voice was. Sheepishly she stopped and tried to hide her face. Facing down a devil about to slay her, easy. The thought of someone hearing her sing to the top of her lungs, extremely frightening.

Bastilla sat for a moment stunned before she could speak, "Your friend, this monk, what he told the wizard was right. You do have a gift. I bet every person in a five block radius just became rejuvenated."

"Are you sure?" Raven said, not sure she had heard the other woman right.

The bard got up and put her hands on Raven's face, "Yes, I feel like I could play concerts for the next three days without sleep. There is something in your nature, that would be wasted if you didn't learn the bardic arts. I must teach you.

That also means I owe that wizard a dinner. I do hope he's not one of those that is smug when right. So, what do you say, are you willing to learn from me?"

"Yes!" Raven said, more eager than she had let on. What a strange journey this thing called life was turning out to be.

That was life for the next few months. Kirann trained, helped out with keeping the peace and generally did his thing. Raven studied under Bastilla to become an exceptional bard. Val volunteered with the children, helping them cope with the damage done to Altamar. Lorinda tended to the trampled grounds around the city, helping it recover from the Orcs. Leilani kept a low profile, while learning more about her power with the court wizard of Altamar. Walton continued to heal, but a broken spirit was not an easy thing to mend.

Angelique hadn't left the former paladin's side, even as he had fallen further into drunken stupor. He still practiced the martial side of his training, but no prayers went up to Tyr, nor did any powers be granted to him. Through it all, the priestess kept her word, and wouldn't leave him. Part of it was her duty, the majority was because he was broken, and she cared about mending him.

What she saw, what his friends saw, Walton couldn't. They saw a good man, with a good heart, a champion of justice. What he saw was a murderer, someone that had slain numerous allies. Even as he knew he had been tricked, that the Pied Piper's magic had been behind it, he had done the deeds. It was his blade that had ended many lives, people who had depended on him to help protect the city. This was a guilt he couldn't get rid of, nor did he want to just be absolved. As a champion of justice, that wasn't his way.

So, it came to be that eventually Walton demanded to be judged by the courts for his crimes. By that time some of the other soldiers and guards had learned of what he had done, and quite a few wanted him executed. Lord Wallace had come to the conclusion that the only way to keep order was to put the paladin on trial.

It lasted for many weeks, with witnesses being called from the guards, and other defenders. The most damning testimony of course came from Walton's own mouth, as he admitted to the killings. Luckily Kirann and Raven were there for his defense. They countered the challenge to his culpability, by pointing out the effect the Pied Piper's instrument had on the paladin.

Because it was such a high profile trial, Lord Wallace sat in judgement. It was hard, because he knew the good man that Walton was. Yet, he also knew the need for his people to have justice, for any betrayal to be repaid in the most severe manners. Even if most of his people called for mercy, correctly stating that Walton wouldn't have done this in his right mind.

The wounds reopened by the trial would be painful, ultimately healing, as law became sutures to the injury. Lord Wallace though could not see justice in putting Walton to death. A good man like this was better suited doing the works of his god, Tyr, than meeting him in the Heavens. Maybe one day, he'd even regain his connection to the god, and his paladin powers.

"Rise Walton, and let Tyr hear my judgement," Lord Wallace called out across the courtroom. "I find you not guilty of murder, by reason of insanity. As such mortal laws are not sufficient, but rather we must look to the Heavens for guidance. A stain still resides on your soul, a judgement of your own making. To cleanse this, I sentence you to service, to the City of Altamar, to Tyranfal and Wyverns Rest. For no more than ten years of service to we of the Alliance, you will work for our interests. As your band of heroes has shown themselves champions of our region, any work you do with them will count towards the service owed us of the Alliance.

Once completed, your ten years of labor, all crimes mortal and spiritual shall be cleansed. If this pleases the Lord of Justice, let him make his will known now!"

As if on cue, the Maimed Lord lit his insignia aglow on all the clerics and paladins in attendance. A hush fell over the crowd, and Walton hung his head in acceptance of his judgement. Justice had been dealt, and even those calling for Walton's execution, fell silent. Lord Wallace ended the proceedings and left for the castle.

Beside him walked his court wizard, "Good job on that spell, Bruce."

The wizard looked confused, "Lord Wallace, I didn't do that. You called upon Tyr and he answered."

"You're sure?" Lord Wallace looked curiously at the wizard. "I've never seen you so quick to proclaim a miracle. Normally that is the priests' job."

Bruce laughed, "I am many things, and have been called many things. However, I wouldn't deny what I see with my own eyes, nor what my spells tell me. The power that provided that glow was divine in origin. It was different than anything I've seen our monk friend use, though I wouldn't put it past any of the clerics or other paladins."

"It doesn't matter," Lord Wallace said. "That young man shouldn't have to pay for an evil man's deeds, but he can not live with what he has done. This way maybe he'll find the will to continue on, and do some good while he's at it."

The court wizard couldn't argue that point, so he followed his lord back to the throne room. There was still much to do, even as the city had continued to rebuild. Things were moving faster than even their most promising estimates foretold. Direction and decisions still had to be made. Worse than making those decisions, was reminding Lord Wallace that was still indeed human. That he still needed the rest and that his city would continue on.

As their time of rest was close to coming to an end, the Challengers found Lord Wallace had another surprise in store for them. Growing in her skills, Raven had begun to perform in the taverns around the city. She made quite a bit of gold, as those coming to listen were quick with coins for tips. It had been good for her, but when Kirann told her that Lord Wallace was requesting them all, she became very intrigued.

What the crowds coming to hear her sing and play didn't realize, her bardic magic had increased very quickly. Her previous experience as a warlock made some of the spells come more naturally to her, as she was used to channeling magical energy through her body. Though just starting, she felt ready to go out into the world. Thanks to Bastilla her sword skills had increased as well.

The bard had taught her how to use the fine fencing weapon, the rapier. Soon she was almost as good with it, as she was with her cutlass. All in all, Bastilla looked on her with respect. Raven soon realized why her trainer had stopped coming around as often, and why she had appeared more during her nightly performances.

"Little Raven," Bastilla said. "I have trained you as far as I can, and frankly you're cutting into my purse here."

"You're leaving?!" Raven asked, realizing how she sounded too late.

Bastilla smiled, "Yes, my little dark bird. You no longer need me. You must continue your training out on the road, and that my dear is where you are really mean to be. I can see it in your eyes, as you look at the newly repaired gate. You long to be out there, and don't deny it. You and that monk of yours have a wanderlust unmatched by any adventurer I've ever seen."

"How can I ever thank you?" Raven asked. Bastilla was one of the few people she could show this much vulnerability to, without feeling horrible.

Bastilla nearly shouted, "Bring back great stories! As a bard, you'll see things, do things and bring it back to the masses. Yours is the destiny of enshrining heroes with immortality beyond imagination. I see you one day being the best of us, and one day I'll get to say I trained you. Best of all, I can see you out pacing me, and I'll be glad to call you friend."

Raven shocked her former teacher with a quick hug, "Thank you, Bastilla."

"You're welcome," the other bard appreciated the trust Raven was showing her.

Later that day, Raven joined the rest of her adventuring group at the gate they had entered oh so long ago. Altamar was almost completely repaired, but what drew her attention was a large object covered. It sat facing the gate, with pathways diverging around it. Easily larger than the gate, whatever laid under the cover was monumental. She looked at Kirann, but he shrugged, not sure what it was either.

Leilani stood with her mask off, letting her Drow heritage display to all. Just like with Raven, the people of Altamar had seen her fighting for them and had sort of accepted her as one of them. She still felt exposed, yet knew she needed to do this. Not so much for the people to see her, but rather for her. She didn't want to hide, didn't want to skulk in the shadows.

Lord Wallace came up and gave a speech to the crowd. It wasn't long, but it was enough for the people to chant in pride. Throughout all the violence and rebuilding, all they had endured, the people of Altamar had bounced back. Their fine city was once again whole because they had come together. Yet, every generation needed their heroes, and that was what he had brought them there to celebrate.

With a quick flick, he pulled on the line raising the covering up. What was revealed was a grand monument of six figures, together and ready to defend the city at all costs. Below them was a granite base, with each of their faces chiseled stylized, with information about each chiseled into the base.

In the front was Val, her twin blades ready to strike. To her left was Walton, his two-handed sword at the ready. To her right was Raven, sword pointed like she was going to release and Eldritch Blast. Behind Val was Kirann in his attack stance, a sun glowing behind him. Leilani and Lorinda took the outer edges, both in states of casting. From Leilani's outstretched hand, a fireball erupted. Meanwhile Lorinda's staff blade crackled with lightning, raised up into the air.

The statues filled the crowd with awe, and the collected Challengers were without words. Whomever the artist was, had gotten their visages eerily accurate. What added to the masterpiece feeling, were the stylized faces on the base, below the main statues. Each one unique for the Challenger it represented. Kirann's was a profile of his face, set in front of a blazing sun. Leilani and Raven's were front views, but each face was divided into two. For Raven, her beautiful human face was jaggedly attached to her gorgeous Tiefling face. Behind her were raised books, showing her love of learning. Leilani's bust was a straight line, her Elf and Drow face seeming to share a knowing smirk. Behind her bust was a grand pyre of fire, burning bright.

For Lorinda, a moon and lightning bolt famed her face, which looked up to the sky. Val's had her mischievous grin replicated, with two daggers and two swords above and below her face bust. Finally, Walton's face was sad, lined with weariness but illuminated by a bright light behind him. A holy warrior aged by conflict before his time, and truer than even Walton would have admitted.

What came next continued the surprises for the Challengers. The DuValls came forward, carrying six medals. Each one was cast in gold, about the size of a fist and intricately detailed. The names of each Challenger were engraved in them, and the DuValls waited for Lord Wallace to speak before they handed them out.

"To those gathered here today," Lord Wallace started. "You all know the heroes who stood with us against the Evil arrayed against us. These people have sacrificed much to defender our region, and have suffered more than an of us will ever truly appreciate. After the battle the continued to help, bringing relief when they could have disappeared.

These people are friends of this city, of this region and to all who are in need. It is with great pleasure that I announce their formal induction as not only allies of Altamar, but grant them the noble titles and knighthoods as permissible. I am also grateful to be able to stand before you, dedicating this statue in their honor. Join me in letting our champions hear our appreciation!"

As the crowd shouted out giant cheers, the DuValls handed out the medals. Before each Challenger, thanks were given, while the recipient graciously handled the attention. Most of the Challengers felt out of their comfort zones, but stood out of respect for those gathered. Once all the medals were given out, the crowed incredibly cheered even louder. How, none of the gathered knew, but that it happened was not in doubt.

Afterwards a grand feast was brought forth, with everyone eating well. They still had time before harvest, and this was a great thing to celebrate. The city was battered, not broken, and re-forged better than ever. The celebrations would go on far into the night, with the main guests finding a way to excuse themselves as the night became morning.

As they were leaving, Lord Wallace stopped Kirann, "Do not worry about he DuValls. I've given them jobs working around the castle, they will not want for anything. Already their skills have been quite useful in the rebuilding."

"It is good that they have a place, and that they will be safe," Kirann replied.

"What are your plans now?" Lord Wallace asked.

Kirann looked out to the horizon, "I feel we are needed out there. Our path lays out there."

"You'll always have a home here," Lord Wallace reminded him. "Altamar is a friend, and we will not forget you."

The monk smiled and followed his party back to their rooms. The party eventually ended, and the sun rose. A new day dawned; new adventures were to be had. With it new challenges lay out there, and so did two beings who had betrayed their friends. One knowingly, the other a pasty to be used.

As the sun rose on them, they felt fear. Out there their former friends still lived, and the thought of revenge was ever present on their minds. When would their party come back for their heads, when would they strike? For Manheim, he prepared spells to counteract all manners of attack. Boris constantly slept in his armor, none rested well. All they could do was wait, even as their old friends rested off a job well done.


	31. Chapter 31

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XXXI

Lorinda walked among the dead things, where the Orcs had made battle against the city. The ground cried out in pain, as most of the living plants had been trampled beyond repair. Even to nature the brutish porcine humanoids were death, which added to her Elvish hatred of Orcs. Grinding her teeth, she tried to hold in the feelings of hopelessness that came from seeing such destruction.

Nearby Kirann was meditating, something Lorinda wished came easier to her than it did. To be more accurate, that it brought her the peace it brought him. She had asked once about what it was like, because he always seemed so relaxed afterwards. He described it as seeing the patterns of life harmonizing with reality, but more like seeing everything from on high. This of course made no sense to her, and she told him as much. He laughed, but told her it made more sense as a state of mind, a way to see what was beyond normal sight.

She was a warden of nature, a caretaker that did Nature's will. The pain of the world was her pain. So, the damage done by the Orcs bit her hard. The only thing worse was her inability to heal that damage. Lorinda had tried to reach out to Nature, guide its healing powers back to the land around Altamar. Not to heal the land for farming, but to make the land whole again.

Nature responded, but she felt her grasp loosening it. With it came her feeling of failure, despite how hard she had fought. She was just a stalk of corn being buffeted by the winds that were Nature's power. Despite her willingness, the power to grasp ahold seemed beyond her. What she would do to have an archdruid around, they could conjure what was needed to heal the land.

"What is wrong?" Raven asked. Lorinda hadn't seen her come up.

It should haven't surprised her. The whole group had grown closer since the battle. Something about facing death together, and defying it strengthened bonds. Not necessarily what she would recommend for a team building exercise, but effective. Still, she wasn't sure if she wanted anyone to see how much she was failing here.

Lorinda put up her hand, "I'm fine. We need an arch druid, or this devastation will take generations to heal."

"Can't you heal it?" asked the Half-Elf Rogue, Val. She meant well and didn't deserve the irritation that rose in Lorinda's chest.

The druid threw up her hands, "We need someone stronger than me."

"This is your thing, what can we do to help?" Val chimed in again. "Maybe all you need is to see the problem from a different angle."

Part of her irritation burned through, "This isn't one of Kirann's mind puzzles. Damage like this can last even your lifetime."

Kirann walked up, and whispered something into Val's ear. The rogue happily walked off, only to start practicing with her weapons out of earshot. This left the monk, the bard and the druid alone. As he walked up to her, Lorinda knew she was instantly not going to want to hear what he had to say.

"It is okay to ask for help," he said gently. "We are here for you, and will do what we can to assist."

"Well I need an archdruid, so unless you're one of them," Lorinda growled, before instantly regretting it. "You don't understand."

Kirann said, "True enough. However, remember we are strong apart, stronger together."

"You're annoying, you know that right?" Lorinda sighed.

He laughed, before saying, "Try again, this time we will assist you."

Lorinda scowled, but went back to reaching out to the threads of Nature's power. She pulled them together around her like a living shroud. Breathing in and out, she felt the world pulsing, a living thing with a voice beyond any one person's reckoning. A low silent voice, more a whisper, flowed around her, filling the air with its sayings. She could focus on one, hear it, but she already knew what most said. They called to erase the stain of death, and replace it with the symphony of life.

While Lorinda focused, Kirann had Raven play her guitar. Low pulsing notes rose up, as did her gentle voice to the wind. The monk smiled as he sat down cross-legged onto the ground and meditated. He let Raven's song wash over him, as he sank deeper into the world, seeing the ki. Energy of life that coursed from the living, connecting them together in a great web of life. With Raven's playing, that energy changed, becoming charged with magical energy. This is what Kirann was hoping for, arcane, natural and life energy working together in harmony.

Using himself as a focus, he sent the energy to his druid friend. To Lorinda she felt her grasp fleeting on the healing magics she was holding, till a wave of pureness flowed over her. Instantly she was overcome, her eyes flew open with lightning bolts dancing around her irises. The whites of her eyes glowed with golden light, and her voice cried out in euphoria. Instantly she felt at one with nature, the world and every living thing within ten miles.

Taking the increased power, she poured it into the world around her. Transferring the energy into a healing and purifying force. The green wave washed over the trampled, dead areas and in their place lush vegetation sprouted up. Plants of all shapes and sizes grew, including massive trees that rose to piece the sky. Blackened ground was replaced with green, brown and other colors only found in lively nature.

Lorinda flew across the newly transformed landscape, her body left behind. What she saw was good. Lively lands where there had been death before, with years of work being done in a very short amount of time. How much time was what pulled her back into her body, with a great surge of pain and agony. As she came back to herself, she let out a piercing yell.

"I've got you," Val said as Lorinda fell back.

The druid felt herself fall, not far, but shocked at her weakened state. Everything felt like jelly and it was all she could do to keep her eyes open. She found breathing hard to do, a chore and all she wanted to do was sink into oblivion. Her mind was muddled, and why she should remain awake escaped her. Blissful rest awaited her, all she had to do was close her eyes.

Then came a jolt of electricity that woke her back up, with her body responding with great complaint. She groaned as she found herself being held by Val. Too tired to complain, Lorinda tried to look put out, only to look completely defenseless. Something that was very different for the strong druid. Lorinda normally projected a sense that she was anything but defenseless.

Raven though watched as Kirann floated in the air, still sitting cross-legged. With the job done, he floated down and set a foot down as he landed on the ground. Walking over to Lorinda, he had a broad smile on his face. She was too tired to really be aggravated, but found herself relax as a warmth spread over her. Like a blanket, the warmth covered her and she now found it hard to stay awake again.

"You were successful," Kirann said. "When you can, look at your ministrations."

"Together, stronger than apart," Lorinda managed to squeak out.

Kirann smiled, "Yes, stronger together."

That night in the inn, the heroes found gifts left by others. Raven found a new set of leather armor, and a beautiful guitar. The guitar she had been using, had been bought from a secondhand merchant. That had been fine while she had been training, but now that she was ready to go out again, a new one had been needed. The leather armor fit her perfectly. A note left on the presents told the giver, one Sunsoul Monk.

Leilani found a new cloth robes that allowed her more freedom of movement. Warm, but light, she could sense the magic that had been infused in the garments. Wearing the robes was like wearing a warm cloud. Her movements were with ease, and the garment felt more like a part of her. Its note said it was from a priest who had seen her fight for the city and the citizens inside.

To replace Kirann's destroyed robes, he had bought just a normal tunic and breeches. However, he found new ones waiting for him on his room's bed. These were specifically made for one like himself. They would compliment his abilities, while also looking distinctly unassuming. Ordered by Lord Wallace's wife, and infused with protective spells by the Wizard Bruce Robertson, these robes were unique. The note relayed that this was just a small "thank you" for keeping her husband safe.

The next day the Challengers were called to Lord Wallace's throne room. There a druid waited on the party. The druid brought an invitation for the druid responsible for the land's rebirth, to come before the nearby circle. Lorinda agreed, but only if everyone could come, as they were part of the miracle.

The other druid nodded, though surprised, "This is acceptable. We await your arrival."

As the druid left, Lord Wallace called for the Challengers to remain, "Altmar has need of you again. We must know of any more threats to the Alliance. I ask you to travel the land as is your want, and report back to me any threats that may endanger us."

"It will be done," Kirann said.

Behind him, Walton had already cast his armored hand to his chest. Due to the sentence already handed down, he was bound to this duty, even if the others refused. However, with the others coming at least he wouldn't be out there alone. Why they stuck with someone as vile as him, he had no idea.

Preparations were made to leave, and soon the Challengers were back out in their element. Traveling towards the druid circle, each one felt their spirits lift again. Even Walton, felt better the further he got away from Altamar. This was where they were meant to be, even if this wasn't always to be their place in the world.

Traveling to the circle was abstract, as Lorinda was leading them, and was taking them through the hidden paths. Kirann had faith in her abilities, though Walton and Val were increasingly uncomfortable the farther away from any discernable path. The others ranged between Kirann's laid back attitude and the jitters effecting Val and Walton. Lorinda tried to reassure them, it helped a little, but not much.

Gratefully, they made it to the druid circle, leaving the rogue and former paladin grateful. Now seeing something that looked more familiar, both were back to normal in just a few moments. That lasted until several druids appeared all around them, to which triggered the defensive instincts of the party.

"Peace, guests of Lorinda," an appearing archdruid said. "I am Gaelin Lars."

"I am Lorinda, of the area you know as Monk's Garden," Lorinda said. "These are my associates, Kirann the Sunsoul Monk, Raven the bard, Leilani sorceress of the arcane, Val master of the roguish arts, and Walton, warrior of Tyr. I greet you and ask how I may be of service."

The archdruid, Gaelin said, "I am well aware of your companions, and you, young druid. Much magic do I sense on some of your companions, but I welcome them as your guests. They have my hospitality, as do you."

"Appreciation honored elder," Lorinda fell into the role of student to teacher. "What may this humble druid do for you?"

Gaelin looked her over for a moment, raising her tension levels. Studying her, the archdruid only makes minor noises, mostly grunts and quizzical hums. Walking around her, he seemed to be keeping her in suspense for as long as possible. Despite his power, she felt herself becoming irritated by being inspected like a slab of beef.

"You do not have the mark of power to do what is claimed, yet I can see you have done this," Gaelin finally said. "One of my circle claims you single handedly rejuvenated an area destroyed by conflict. They tell me the area thrives now, as if there had never been any damage to the world there. Tell me how."

Lorinda swallowed, "I can't take credit for that alone. My companions aided me, though I do not understand how."

"Truly, I sense no nature magic amongst them," the archdruid said incredulously.

"There is none," Kirann interjected. "I think we can explain.

For the rest of the night, the druids and the party exchanged information. They couldn't believe that any energy called ki could exist, but the idea of bards increasing druid power was interesting. Some claimed they would have to look into this, though they were hesitant. Bringing in outsides brought with it dangers. Even these outsiders could cause issues, but the archdruid felt they were trustworthy enough.

By the morning the druids had heard enough and called for the Challengers from their rest. Once more the archdruid met them, but the others were gone. The party had been accepted as possible friends. Anything more would require much more work, but it was a starting point. For Lorinda, it was nice being amongst the druids, as was having her friends accepted.

"Lorinda, you are a powerful druid," the archdruid started. "I must relay to you the reason for your summons here. Out there something is draining the life out of whole swaths of nature, both civilized and wild. Whole sections of forests have been found shriveled up and dry. Animals discovered as dried husks, while those we have sent have come back scarred. Some have never recovered; they soon went to the great cycle of balance."

"You want us to check this out?" Lorinda asked.

The archdruid smirked, "One who can rejuvenate an area destroyed by combat, is just what we need here. You have focused life, now we need you to do again. This time to stop unchecked death from disharmonizing the Balance."

"I will do what I can," she said.

Kirann stepped forward, "We will assist her with this."

"This is good, for I think she will need it," Gaelin the archdruid said. "If successful, I will grant each of you a boon."


	32. Chapter 32

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XXXII

It was by midday that the Challengers were back at the city, and by that evening they were ready to leave. Lord Wallace was updated about their plans, and that their search would start towards the north. They would then try to cut to the east, coming back at the city afterwards. Then they'd head out again towards the south, just to be certain.

The season was getting late enough that they would probably get to southern regions before the days became too cold and short. They would be able to complete the mission handed to them by the Lord of Altamar, and fit in Lorinda's as well.

They left early enough that many were still in their beds. That was okay with Kirann, he was trying to avoid a grand send off. He as happier doing the work that needed to be done without the spotlight. He could do it in the spotlight, but it came with limits. Things became complicated when all your actions were out there. There were some decisions that were best left to work themselves out.

One of those was trusting in a Drow, when most of her race was known for their wicked and vile ways. Another was looking past a deal made for survival, and seeing the promise of that person. Then there was the worthiness of one who thought he was anything but. Luckily, he had help, a person with a heart of gold, and another who reminded him he wasn't all knowing.

The trail was silent, devoid of even the normal sounds of nature they were used to. This made Lorinda anxious, as she felt an utter lack of Nature's voice. The ground around them had started to brown, with it turning black far into the horizon. The horses were nervous as well, and started to buck at going any further forwards.

Kirann pulled them over, and led them over to one of the few green patches amongst the dying vegetation. Rather than risking it, he pulled some feed bags from their supplies and fed the horses from that. Last thing they needed, were the horses being sickened by whatever was causing this blight.

Lorinda launched from the wagon, nearly returning as she landed on the ground. A deep unabated terror seized her, and she felt the need to run away. However, for one that had faced down an army led by a demon, she didn't scare that easily. The ground though, was wrong, utterly wrong and its song was disharmonized from the rest of nature. This land was sick, sicker than she had seen ever.

Those not attuned to nature, still felt unease as they walked amongst the dying land. Val hadn't moved her hands from the blades on her sides, while Walton cracked his knuckles, a nervous tic. Leilani reached for a hidden pendant, and started to mutter a prayer. None could hear it, but the call to Mielikki was still there. For Kirann, something was wrong with the ki around the devastated area.

He tried to sense the energy, but it came back ill, like it was poisoned. Like a well of stagnant water, the energy here was off. Even just feeling it made the monk want to push it away as far as possible. A long bath in a river would be needed after this, just to get the dirty feeling off.

They searched, and searched, looking for something. They would have taken any sign of life, even the source of the blight. It was not to be that easy though, as the decay stretched everywhere. Eventually the day waned, and they had to get ready to make camp. As none of them wanted to make camp surrounded by death, Lorinda cleansed the area around where their camp would be.

Just as before, it took a lot out of her. Thankfully Kirann had a warm meal for her, and Raven an even warmer blanket to throw around her shoulders. The druid of course grumbled about the special treatment, but those arguments didn't last longer than a few words. Nor did she argue as they helped her to her sleeping mat. In fact a small smile was on her face, though she would argue that with any that brought it up later.

During the night, Raven was visited. As she slumbered, an inky shape moved past the edge of camp. Coming up behind her as she stood watch, the shape used a blind spot to grab her. A patron always has a back door to those they patron, so Raven's patron took her and scrambled away.

The camp was awoken by a scream and instantly Kirann felt something was off. He bolted upright, feeling the foul presence of a devil nearby. He quickly thrust on his boots and cloak before rushing out into the night. The others saw his glow erupt, and tried to follow behind him. Being a monk though, he quickly outpaced them, even fleet footed Val. Lorinda was bringing up the rears, simply because her body still called out for rest.

"It took the work of my other agents to get me to this plane," Raven's old patron growled. "You disappoint me. I gave you power, and didn't interfere much in your life. I even gave you camouflage, yet you throw it away. What for? A man who'll eventually destroy you?"

Before she could answer, he threw her to the ground. She barely moved as a blast of energy threw up the ground beside her. On instinct she moved, just as another blast sent her flying. She landed hard, but managed her knees before she felt resistance.

Her wrists were shackled to the ground, and a choker with chains appeared around her neck. She could not move, nor could she reach her weapon. No matter how much she struggled, the chains would not allow her to. Her old patron looked pleased by this.

His bony hands pointed at her, "Was I too cruel of master?"

"No, but your latest price was too much," she answered. "He is a good man, and he fights for something better."

"He's a damned Aasimar! That is their schtick, but it is all lies," her old patron growled. "Even now he's probably making a list of how to purify you from this plane. Do you really think he cares about you? You're a convenient ally, and a soon to be threat for him to erase."

"You're wrong about him!" Raven said, even as small doubts began to spring up in her mind.

She pushed back against them. He was her friend, and maybe something more. He hadn't batted an eye when she lost her glamour. Instead he treated her just as he always did. Even when all he knew was that she was a warlock, he argued for her. No, he would not betray her. It just wasn't in his nature to be that duplicitous.

"I see the doubt little raven," her old patron sneered. "Matters not, soon we'll be far away. This teleportation spell will take us home."

A blast of pure sunlight smashed into the devil, and it howled in pain. Turning a bright sun illuminated a man in a cloak. His eyes were blue flames and a snarl was on his lips. He unleashed another sunbeam straight at Raven.

"You shall not haunt her for another moment," Kirann proclaimed, his voice echoing supernaturally. "You are done. She decides if your power she wants!"

"You destroyed her fool!" the devil said.

Kiran smiled, "No, only freed her."

From the side Raven pulled her sword, a song on her lips. Anger danced across her face, as broken chains jingled at her wrists. Yet she held her blade, as her patron had been kind for a devil. He hadn't harmed her, and didn't let undo harm come to her. She had to wonder why he had come back for her. Why not just leave her alone?

"Leave now, and never bother me again!" she called out. "I have found a home, friends. I no longer need your power as I have found my own. No ill will is there between us."

The devil roared, "You can never leave me! When I found you, you were nothing."

"She was never nothing," Kirann attacked.

The monk struck the devil with a blow that sent him stumbling back. Kirann followed that up with a savage kick to the devil's chest, but was thrown back when the devil retaliated. The monk rolled, coming back up to his feet and blasted out another sunbeam. This hit the devil again, blasting away at its shell. The devil howled, writhed in pain.

"Come Raven, together we can vanquish it!" Kirann called out.

Reluctantly, Raven joined the battle. The song she sung as one of sadness and determination. She didn't want to destroy the devil, but she also wanted her freedom from him. That life was over for her, it was in her past. Her future was with her friends, the ones she had fought hard for.

"Stand down!" she called out to her old patron. "Leave me be, our time is over."

"You will always be mine, little raven," the devil growled. "I made you!"

Raven swung out with her sword, it missed the first slash. The second connected because Kirann smashed into the devil. He struck it with several of his ki infused punches and kicks. The devil howled, but found itself unable to fight back as Raven's blade dug into its skin. The evil turned to smash her, only for another sunbeam to nearly tear his face off.

Falling to one knee, the devil scratched the ground blindly. He hoped to grab one of them and make them greasy paste. Instead he got a savage blow to the back of the neck, and he collapsed. What happened next surprised him as the monk yanked his head up, but held his next strike.

"Kill me, pitiful bastard," the devil growled. "I will not beg."

"Raven, do you want or need this thing's power any longer?" Kirann asked her.

Softly, sadly she said, "No, I have found my path finally."

"Then devil, this is the deal," he said. "You will not come after her, you will not try to harm her, and you will renounce the pact. Your life is forfeit, so return back to the Hells. Never darken our lives again. Any of us." Turning to Raven, "Can you send him back?"

"Mercy to a devil?" her old patron laughed.

Raven understood, "Devils are bound by their word. If you swear, you can not break it. I would do as he suggests before he decides destroying you is easier."

Her old patron looked stunned for a second, "You are unlike any Aasimar I have ever known."

"Trust me, the urge to eradicate you is there," Kirann said. "Justice is best served on another path."

"Then I swear," the devil growled.

Raven scribed down the runes needed to open the gate. The hellish thing opened, blasting the surrounding area with fiery light. Beyond the portal several imps were skittering about, unsure if they would be able to get through. They didn't have long to decide as Kirann marched the beaten devil over to it. Begrudgingly he stepped through, throwing a very rude hand gesture at Kirann as he did.

"You didn't have to do that," Raven said. "If you had killed him, he would have respawned back in the Hells."

Kirann nodded, "He might have even been demoted. A bigger grudge he would have had then. Now, he must keep his word."

"I know, but that was incredibly merciful," she continued on. "More than he realizes. I'm hoping that doesn't come back to bite you in the ass."

Kirann laughed, which surprised Raven, "Then I guess I'll just need you to watch my back, then."

With that he pulled her close and they began walking back to camp. At first, she was confused, but decided that she like being this close to him. Soon she relaxed, which of course was the moment the rest of their party caught up to them.

A bounding Val collided with Raven and grabbed her into a tight hug. Kirann chuckled as Lorinda gave him a tired and grumpy look. Walton though smiled for the first time in weeks, it quickly vanished.

The whole party went back towards their camp. Behind them was a full bright moon. Their profiles against that illustrious backdrop, made them seem more than mortals. To the devil watching from his throne room, they were. Just two of them had nearly ended him, something that should have taken the power of a god to do. The question was how, and he had just the way to find out. Calling on one of his other agents, he requested any lore on any power that could destroy or harm a devil. He didn't care how arcane or rare the lore was. This could never happen again; he could never be bested by a mortal again.


	33. Chapter 33

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XXXIII

By the coming dawn, the rest of the Challengers awoke to Kirann standing facing the rising sun. Luminous dragon wings billowed out, flexing around him, and they could swear the aura around him pulsed. He was so bright, that he blinded them as if they were looking straight into the sun. Just as they started to complain, his light returned back to normal and he turned towards them.

"Let's get going," he said gently, even as his words rumbled over them.

The Challengers continued on, traveling through the desecrated lands. Lorinda tried to keep the disgust from her face but failed. The corruption of nature tore at her, pulled at her emotions. Something sacred and pure, ravished by something unnatural and horrific. She wanted to be angry, but rage didn't come. Instead a deep, depressing sadness swept over her.

Raven must have glimpsed this, as she pulled off her guitar and began singing. Lorinda felt her mood lift, and she had to admit that the new bard was very good at her job. Because of her, the druid was able to concentrate. Thanks to this, she felt a sudden disturbance in nature's song. Something was siphoning life nearby, and Lorinda rushed forward.

She didn't have to look behind her to know the rest were with her. As she moved quickly forward, the concentration of abhorrence only intensified. It started to physically affect her. Skin became pale and paper thin, fullness started to drain, leaving only gaunt limbs. A deep lethargy spread, and limbs became heavier and heavier. Lorinda found herself nearly crawling as she got closer and closer. Why she kept going, instead of falling back, she couldn't answer. Her mind was muddled, all she had was the need to go forward.

Something hot plucked her up and Lorinda found herself being carried backwards. She didn't have the strength to fight back, instead her head lowered and she fought against heavy eyelids. As she moved farther away, suddenly the lethargy left. Energy flooded back, but she still felt exhausted. The person carrying her laid her down, and she felt the wooden planks of their wagon.

"Easy now," Kirann said. "That was close."

Lorinda noticed he was looking dimmer than he usually did and there were bags under his eyes. The others looked even worse for wear, but they were fine. It looked like she had taken the worst of it. Now away from whatever was causing it, her mind went over what was going on. Her mind could only go to one place, which thankfully Raven thought the same thing.

"I think that was necromancy," she said almost breathless. "Why would anyone delve into such power?"

"You were once a warlock," Lorinda reminded her, realizing how that sounded and felt bad.

"True, but I don't think this person is only using the power for safety," the Tiefling responded. "I'd say whoever is behind this is very powerful, or has friends."

"We rest, then we continue," Kirann took up position. "I'll take first watch."

A few hours passed and everyone began to feel much better, their color returning. Once they were up to moving, Kirann had Lorinda do a small cleansing. However, he had her do it away from their camp. Though it tired her account again, she was still good to go. Then they were on the move again.

This time they stayed on the outskirts, slowly moving in to prevent a similar reaction as before. Every so often Kirann would have Lorinda stop and cleanse an area. Afterwards they'd move in the opposite direction, before returning back to their circular route. This went on for the rest of the day, before they camped by a well nestled on an abandoned farm.

Because of the strain of the day, Lorinda was the first to rest, with Raven and Kirann taking the first watch. The others were also laying on their sleeping mats, from the sounds, they were quite well into sleep's embrace. He looked at her, knowing she was just as tired, but fighting it. He was too, but he knew the others had been affected by the drain. They needed time to recover.

"Second time today," Raven broke the silence. "You should have let someone else take watch."

He laughed, "I think they needed it more. Besides it's a beautiful night."

She nodded, "This close to death and destruction and you're looking at the stars?! You're a unique one, Kirann."

"We are all individuals," he replied back, prodding her with an elbow.

She pushed his arm, "That's not what I meant! You see things differently than anyone I've ever met. That's a good thing." Before he could speak, she continued on, "We've been through a lot. For most of that time, I hid from all of you. Yet, you still trust me."

Kirann gave her his gentle smile, "I trust your heart and actions. Neither of those have ever lied."

"I just wanted to tell you, that I'm sorry," Raven lowered her head. "You all have been better friends than anyone could ask for."

Kirann nodded, "Don't underestimate your own worthiness. To me there is nothing to apologize for."

"You would say that!" Raven sighed, even as a small tear went down her cheek. "Listen, I don't have much, but I can tell you this. I took the name of Raven, but that isn't who I was born as. My name is Jessica Umbra. I just wanted you to know that."

He pulled her next to him, wrapping an arm around her. For several moments he didn't speak, just held her there. Doubts began to rise in her mind again, and she began to see every way he'd turn on her. Yet, a flow of warmth coming from him relaxed her. He squeezed her even tighter, not gently but lovingly.

"I will not betray your trust," he quietly said. "You are very special to me. I'm glad you came with us, all that time ago."

Raven smiled, "You big softy."

The rest of the night passed in silence. Val and Leilani took the next watch, with Walton and Lorinda taking the last watch. Each of the Challengers noticed though, that their monk leader and their new bard were smiling ear to ear. Val began to wonder exactly what happened while she and the other rested. However, she figured they deserved a little happiness.

The next morning the party continued their circular path. Val and Walton went back to bring their wagon to the abandoned farm. After securing the horses and the wagon in the barn, they secured the door. Once sure that it would hold, they met up with their friends. Which by that time, had stopped to view a scene of horror.

A contingent of walking skeletons walked up and down the road. Walton guessed the road would lead to the town. Had he still had his holy abilities, he would have known the unnaturalness was actually coming more from the east, instead of from town. Lorinda though did get that same feeling from her connection to nature.

She wanted to march immediately towards the wound and desecration, but Kirann argued for swinging by the town first. There could be more information gathered, and maybe an idea of who they faced. The druid had to admit he was right, but she still felt wrong not immediately taking this desecrator out. She turned to Walton, to see if he felt the same. Yet, he just looked distracted.

"Is he calling to you?" Kirann asked Walton as they backtracked.

Walton turned angrily towards the monk, "Leave it, monk."

Even as he stomped off, he felt bad. Kirann was only trying to help, but he couldn't know. How could anyone? They should, it should be evident. He did something wrong, something evil. He couldn't call upon a goodly lord and ask for miracles, with what he had done. He needed a drink, or maybe a fight. No, what he really needed was the priestess. To feel her warm body against his, to feel her breath on his neck, but most of all to feel her love. Love he didn't deserve, but freely gave.

Val led them around the patrolling undead. There were a couple of times that they were nearly found, but those were quickly taken care of. One of those was when a group of six skeleton just appeared out of nowhere. Minutes later, the bones were bundled up into a makeshift bag and thrown off the side of the road. Eventually they made their way to the outskirts of the town.

Decrepit buildings greeted them. Once proud structures, built solidly, reduced to haggard lean-tos. All were damaged in some way, some showing no signs of habitation recently. Some that did look like people still lived in them, had doors that were propped up in the frames. Beneath them disturbed dirt showed the movement of tiny feet.

The Challengers silently made their way through the town. This was a feat, as Walton was wearing his plate armor. Thanks to the amount of times he had to sneak around, thanks to the group's love of stealth, he'd developed a quieter gait. That and the fabric stuff between the joints, cut down on the amount of noise the metal clad warrior.

A teen boy and girl were sneaking around, but not for a romantic rendezvous. Instead, they scurried about with a small satchel of looted supplies and scavenged produce. One of the teens carried the carcass of a slain hare. Both were so focused on trying to safely return, that they didn't see the adventurers.

With a loud gasp, the teen boy struck out with his walking stick. While the girl started the opposite way. They'd split up and meet back at the predetermined meeting place outside of town. She though felt herself slow severely, and she looked back to find the boy being thrown to the ground. The walking stick in the hands of the glowing man, and pointed at the boy's chest.

"Peace," the glowing man said. "We are the Challengers, and mean you no harm."

As to explain this further, he held out his hand for the boy to take. Then lifted the youth up rather easily. The teen girl still felt panic in her gut, but stopped fighting for the moment. Deciding that she wanted a better look, the girl looked over the group. That was when she spotted the ebon skin of one, and the curved horns of another. Immediately she was back to pure fear. There was a Drow and a half demon here!

"Calm yourself," Kirann said, moving to catch up with the teen girl. "You are among friends."

The boy was still stunned by how quickly he'd been taken down, that when he caught sight of Leilani and Raven, it didn't faze him. Instead, he went to the girl, standing in front of her as Kirann and Walton came up to her. Somewhere deep in his mind, he recognized the danger these warriors were. He wouldn't leave her to them though, and he was still trying to figure out where they had come from.

"Let us go," the girl pleaded. "It's not safe."

Walton spoke before he could stop himself, "Then let's get you home." Noticing Kirann's smile, he growled, "We'll escort you home."

The two teens thought about arguing, but knew they were caught. They also knew that their families would need the supplied they had recovered. These people were an unknown and could either be heroes or more vultures preying on the weak. They also couldn't take the chance of taking this group back. They'd have to lose them.

That plan might have worked, but the boy began to cough uncontrollably. He was leading the heroes when it his, and he fell to the ground. Rough, phlegmy coughs wracked his body, forcing him to the ground. Spasming on the ground, his eyes rolled up as the attack made the boy curl into a ball. His companion, the girl, fell to her knees, pulling him up to her.

"He's sick," Lorinda examined the boy. "This infection is very serious, haven't seen something this bad."

"Can you save him?" the girl asked.

Kirann looked at Raven, "Know any healing spells? If we pool Lorinda's abilities and ours."

"That might work, I know a light healing spell," Raven said. "Lorinda, you start, Kirann and I will assist."

They had the teen boy lay on the ground, already his breathing had worsened to strangled wheezing. The teen girl held his hand as the druid began to chant. Reaching into the energy of nature, the druid pulled healing energies into her chant. Letting the magic grow, she let it start to pour out of her hands and into the very sick young man.

As she did, Raven cast her own healing magic. Not as powerful as Lorinda's, hers added to the restoration of the damaged body. Between them both, the boy began to breathe easier. The addition of Kirann's holy energy ended up pushing out the remaining sickness. Between the three of them the boy was healed, but would need to recuperate.

The boy opened up his eyes, and breathed without pain or agony. He looked up at the adventurers with the look of a man to the deities. The girl had grabbed him back up in a strong hug, almost unbelieving in the miracle she had seen. She turned back to them, knowing that she could trust them now. They hadn't asked why or who they were, but still healed the boy because he needed it. These were good people, that was all she needed to know.

"Easy now," Lorinda gently said. "You'll need a few days to get back on your feet."

Kirann looked around, "I'd suggest we get inside. I feel something unnatural coming."

The girl motioned for them to follow her, "Come, our families will welcome you."

She led them, with the teen boy in tow. Down pathways leading between the broken houses. Across lanes where a once vibrant village stood, she led them to the last vestiges of the living. Huddled in an old barracks, several families hunkered together. Protecting them were the two guards remaining and the same amount of rangers.

The guards used to number five before what had come. The rangers roamed the area when the unnaturalness came. Because of their courage, the two groups saved what left of the village's people. In return they had lost people, with that loss weighing heavily on all. None shirked what their duty was, and continued to protect those people still alive.

As such it took the teen girl's insistence on the friendliness of the newcomers, that kept a fight from breaking out. The Challengers were looked at with suspicion, especially Raven and Leilani. The testimony of the teen boy and girl though, did soften some of the stares they got.

One of the rangers came up to Kirann, "I am called Strider, do you lead this band?"

"I am Kirann, and we are the Challengers," the monk answered. "We're here to help."


	34. Chapter 34

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XXXIV

"It started about a month ago," Strider relayed the story. "My brethren and I had come to trade for supplies. Our retreat is about half a day's march to the north. So, at least once a month we come to trade. As was usual, we were welcomed lukewarmly, but weren't run out of town.

Some of the townspeople here aren't fond of us, weren't fond of us. Not surprising to be sure. We are people of the wild, live out of towns and amongst nature. Though we help travelers, we rangers tend to stay to ourselves. Our ways are different than those of the townspeople, but we respect them.

Anyway, we had restocked our provisions into our packs and were about to head back when our animal companions sounded the alarm. We had to leave them outside the town, but they still kept an eye on us. My wolf companion was the first to howl at what was coming. I hope Storm Shadow is okay out there. I haven't heard from him in a while." At this the ranger ran a finger up to his eye, to clear some irritant from it. "My fellow rangers responded to that. We called out to the guard, who at the time wasn't sure of what to make of us. In a few moments though it was all moot.

From the East came a horrid wind, one that smelled of hellfire and yet chilled you all in one. Many of us heard our companions let out strangled gasps of pain. One, a guy by the name of Bear found his companion dead. Poor guy went nuts as he held the small fox." Strider had to wipe some more of that irritant from his eye again. "Bear was named because he's so big and hairy. Yet, he was the gentlest guy you'd ever meet. Don't get me wrong, cross him and he'd make you hurt. It just took a lot to anger him.

He had found the fox wounded, from one of the townspeople's annual hunts. Bear nursed the little guy back to health, and that was that. Ever since they were inseparable. Bear never had the fox fight with him, only to sniff out hidden things and find people who were lost. We all loved seeing those two together. Damn those swine!"

"It's okay," Kirann said. "I take it Bear didn't make either?"

"I don't know," Strider replied. "Still, I have to finish this. You all need to know what is going on, and that won't happen if I let the memories take me. It was about then that we saw the shadow form on the ground, and everything start to shrivel and die.

That is when we saw them, men and women dressed in dark robes. Most were pure black, but somewhere a deep purple or dingy crimson. They called on Nature like druids did, but the power felt different, corrupted somehow. Bear rushed them, only to be knocked back by newly materialized fallen paladins. I could tell that much, and by the armor that they wore. The same colors colored their plate armor, and they each wielded a weapon made of dark crystal.

Bear fell before them, and I can only guess he died. More would before this day was done. Just after Bear, some of the guards here rushed out to defend the town. Others started herding the townspeople. I managed to get a shot out with my bow, the arrow however embedded itself into a risen vine. It just up and clasped the arrow out of the air.

There must have been a wizard among them, because soon portals opened. They spewed out eldritch abominations, bests that would horrify even the bravest into cowardice. They fell upon the townspeople, ripping them apart, eating them, and some doing far, far worse.

I grabbed the nearest child and ran towards the panicking people. Managed to take down three beasts, but not sure how. Mielikki must have been watching over me, because I don't remember anything other than firing my bow over and over again. Next thing I know, the guards are calling for a retreat to the barracks.

The captain, a woman by the name of Gretchen stood her ground as the others ran around. Shouting orders, she took control of the situation. I'm sure she felt the same terror as I, but she fought against it. Thanks to her, we started to move the townspeople, or what remained of them, to the barracks here. Last I saw her, one of the abominations tore her apart in front of her men. One valiantly went to her, only for him to be impaled on a tentacle.

Their sacrifice carried the day though, as those you see before you took up positions in here. However, one final guard perished that day, and he is the reason why we remain. He had studied magic, along with his fighting arts. Knowing that the room had to be held, he stood outside, waiting for the things to come close. Then as if his life was nothing, he called a series of fireballs down on his position. It destroyed the buildings, nearly brought this one down, but most importantly took out the abominations.

In the end we were left with two guards, another ranger and I, to protect the survivors. Since then we've used what little resources we had, and whatever we could scavenge. We haven't seen any more abominations, but companies of skeletons and zombies are common. You're the first people we've seen come from out of town. I haven't seen anyone else from our retreat come to investigate. I just hope that they haven't been attacked as well."

"You have done well," Kirann said. "The others though, I am sorry for your loss."

"Just tell me you've been sent with an army," Strider said. "I really don't want to be stuck here for longer like this."

Lorinda answered, "I'm sorry, but I was sent here to investigate the wound in Nature. My party came to assist, but it's just us."

Strider laughed, "This is one time I wish you would have lied. These people could have used some hope, even false hope."

"We will bring them hope," Kirann said. "Not a false sense of hope, but the honest to goodness real deal. Now what else can you tell us?"

Strider sighed, as if pondering if it was worth the effort, "We think there is only a small party left, one of the druid like casters, one of the dark wizards and at least two fallen paladins. The real problem are the undead. They are numerous and like to swarm."

Walton had tuned out. He knew his old powers would be useful here, but he no longer had them. He could still obliterate and dismember any enemy that got in his way. How that was going to help out beyond the obvious, was beyond him. He also couldn't face their group leader, not as the failure he was.

"Your friend there has the look of a paladin about him," Strider said, his voice full of hope. "Can he turn or banish the undead?"

"Our plan should be taking out the wizard controlling the undead," Kirann quickly said. "Then the antidruids you were talking about. With those two groups down, it's just the fallen paladins. Between you and us, they'll fall."

Strider smirked, "That easy huh? You are either really foolish, really brave or just that damned good. I'm not sure which yet."

The next day dawned, with darkened fields showing blackened crops. The skeletal soldiers parading around the ruined town didn't even notice the change. The continued on their endless, tireless march. Bones clinking together in a horror xylophone melody, which sent a shiver down the spine of anything living. Under their rotted noses, a group of six went about searching, scouting. The Challengers were on the move.

They moved from broken house to broken house, looking for any other survivors and supplies. They kept an eye out for the diseased ground, and just how atrophied the ground was. Not surprisingly the damage became harsher, the closer they came to their original path. That path they had strayed from, when noticing the town.

What did show in the light of day, was a line of impaled and shriveled bodies. Each one died in a state of pain or suffering, which left their corpses seemingly screaming silently to the sky above. These must have been the residents taken by the attackers, and their life forces taken. The result of such would leave the shriveled atrocities on display for the Challengers to see.

"By all that is merciful," Val let out a strangled gasp.

Raven agreed, "I could live a thousand lifetimes without needing to ever see this again."

Kiran nodded, but kept silent. They would end this, no one should ever die like this. What he was looking at was more than evil, it was irredeemable. The things that did this were more demon or devil than any being. He was hard pressed to think even Orcs would be this savage, though there were stories out there that said they were.

By midday they were away from the small town, and the feel of insidious decay grew harsher by the footfall. None of them felt safe, instead feeling like the enemy could appear at any moment, to destroy them. The overbearing oppressiveness of the situation tarried after them, hounding them like a ravenous beast.

They came upon a clearing, where swirling lines of dead vegetation circled around a dark clad figure. The figure was chanting away, with the air around them looking smoky and used. Colored a sickly off-white gray, the air rushed around the antidruid. Not even the disgusting smoke from city factories could match the offensiveness of the air around the antidruid.

A portal opened up and spat out a dark clad wizard, and a young child. The kid was screaming and crying, to which the wizard slapped the child. Only by pure force of will did Kirann not pop up and scramble towards the wizard. His blood ran hot and his anger swelled up inside. He wanted nothing else but bring down the wrath of the heavens upon their heads. He had to keep his cool, or they might all end up like the impaled bodies back in town.

Raven went to jump up, but found Kirann's hand holding her down. He put a finger up to his lips, letting her know to be silent. Why became apparent, as two dark armored figures marched up, dragging behind them a line of heads. Each line was a thick rope, and nets attached to the rope held the severed heads of their victims. They trailed for twice the length of the fallen paladins.

"This area is the center of the corruption," Lorinda said, the words feeling foul as she said them. "The wrongness here is overwhelming, I have to do something about it."

"What about the child!" Raven interjected.

Kirann put a calming hand on her back, "We're going to save them. We still have a ways to go, though."

"I thought my race was only capable of such monstrosity," Leilani growled. "This whole area needs to be purified by fire."

Lorinda looked at the invaders, her voice more a growl, "You may leave them as ash, but Nature will return life here."

"We play this smart," Kirann said. "There are four of them, six of us. Take out the wizard and the druid, the rest will fall easier."

"Easier you say," Lorinda nudged him. "Always the optimist, aren't you?"

The antidruid took that time to stop and look at what the evil wizard had brought. Leering down at the child, the corrupter of nature grabbed the child snake strike quick. The child whimpered, afraid of another physical strike. The antidruid smiled evilly and the wizard rubbed their hands together in great expectation.

Whatever they had planned for the child, it wasn't good. Even as the Challengers closed the distance, the evil party began to chant. They were out of time; these people were about to harm this child. The Challengers could either do something, or watch as the child was killed in front of them. The smart thing would have been to catch the caster off guard, but that would have meant possibly allowing the child to die. That wasn't an option, they were going to do this the hard way.


	35. Chapter 35

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XXXV

The sky became stormy in moments, with lightning flashing through the air and the wind howling. Its banshee screams helped drown out the Challengers, but only slightly. The fallen paladins turned just in time from Leilani to take one out with a fireball, and Walton slam his blade into another. Both fell, but Walton's was back up quickly. Leilani's target was screaming, but wasn't dead. Murder dance in his eyes and he caught sight of her.

The chant briefly stopped at the explosive sound, both the antidruid and the wizard looking to see what was going on. They noticed their armored protectors engaging, but also caught sight of four others rushing them. The wizard growled before commanding his undead horde to attack. The antidruid was less amused, and cast an entangling mass.

Raven tripped as sickly vines grabbed her legs, wrapping tightly around them. They also began to worm their way up her legs, and she had a nightmarish thought as to why. Hacking away with her sword, she managed to free herself from one, only for another to grab her arm. Slicing through that, she managed to get out of the field, but feeling drained by the experience. Only then did she notice the mass of entangling roots began to follow her.

"What in the Hells?!" she screamed as she let out a flame spell. At least then the entangling, writhing evil plant things stopped. It didn't hurt that they were on fire and quickly engulfed in the flames.

Lorinda was also entangled, but managed to get out by changing shape to a recently learned bear form. She changed back quickly once out of the affected area, and cast a flame spell as well. Seeing it worked for Raven, she expected it to work just as well for her. The abomination of a druid's natural spell just made her more furious.

Val and Kirann managed to evade entanglements, but soon found themselves facing five skeletons. The first one went down as Kirann performed an, unusual for him, showy kick, that sent the skeleton's skull flying through the air. Val parried a strike from another, but the monk was by her side and he took that one out easily enough as well.

"Get to the child!" he said. "I'll be right behind you!"

She knew better than to argue with that, especially as he bent out of the way of another attack, and it destroyed another skeleton rushing at him. He ended the skeleton that missed him with a series of blows that left bits of bone flying into the air. The rogue was another dozen steps from him when the last skeleton blew apart.

More were incoming, but she ran forward. There were two ways to save the child, kill the antidruid and wizard, or make enough commotion to refocus their attention on her. Neither sounded good to do solo, as both of these casters were more than frightening. Sure, she had some tricks, but it would have been better to take these two unaware. At least then the odds would be in her favor.

She dodged a fireball spell, but still found herself flung to the ground hard. The wind knocked out of her, she continued clawing at the ground. The back of her neck felt like every hair was on end, which only happened when she was terrified, and when Lorinda was casting her lightning spell. Val didn't want to stick around on the chance she was just scared.

Just as she did manage to scramble out of the way, a bolt of electricity blasted the area she had just been. However, Val didn't have time to rest as a looming form hovered over her. Reaching for her fallen blades, she was rewarded with a blast of arcane energy. She screamed out in pain, tucking into a ball reflexively.

"Ah, the little thief cries!" the wizard mocked. "Do you want a time out little girl? Too bad! However, I may have a use for you. I have need of a what you possess, that life giving essence."

"Leave her alone you bastard!" Raven cast a magical missile, and watched as the wizard swatted it away like flies.

He laughed and quickly cast another spell, all the while wearing the evilest visage upon his face. Beside Raven the ground erupted as a muscular blob of fleshy tissue birthed itself into the realm. Her reflexes saved her, as a tentacle smashed the ground where she stood. Bouncing away, Raven brought up her sword to strike as more tentacles emerged from the fleshy blob.

"Have fun! Your little thief friend sure will when I'm done with her," the wizard snarled and turned back around to deal with Val.

Imagine his surprise when the tip of a sword pierced his chest, and continued on. Val thrust with all her might, screaming as she did a violent war cry. The wizard looked incredulous as he backed away, sword still sticking out of his chest and his lifeblood beginning to flood internally. Val didn't stop, she dashed forward with her off hand blade.

"You will never plague another living soul again!" Val managed as she brought her short sword through his neck savagely.

The wizards head fell to the ground, shortly followed by his headless body. Val retrieved her main hand, and then fell down. Her chest felt like it was on fire and she was having trouble breathing. Looking up with fear in her eyes, she knew that help wasn't coming. Raven was fighting off the tentacle monster, and not doing so well. She couldn't see Kirann, but Lorinda had engaged the antidruid.

Then her pain lessened, and she felt a pure sense of goodness pour through her. Able to stand, she rushed towards Raven. Still hurting, but now at least able to help her fight. Her first strike damaged one tentacle, which earned her the attention of ten more. How many of these things did the monster have?

"Look at you, still obeying Nature's will," the antidruid mocked Lorinda. "Even now you must see the futility. My brothers and sisters thought to control me, tell me that my connection to nature wasn't for my benefit. They were wrong, just like you are!"

"You talk too much!" Lorinda struck out with her sword staff.

Her attack bit into the decaying bark skin armor the antidruid wore, and black ichor sprayed out. Hitting her in the face, Lorinda immediately felt something was wrong. A weakness like no other came over her, and she an illness she had never endured eating at her. She struck out, as the antidruid advanced on her.

As she got weaker, the other druid seemed to grow in power. Even worse was the antidruid was laughing, playing with her now. Anger filled Lorinda and she managed one good attack, and her weapon slashed open the antidruid's cheek. The shock of the other woman's face was enough to make her sudden depleted strength worth it.

"So, there is still some fight in you," the antidruid growled. "It is time for you to die. I was going to let the poison run its course, but now I'm pissed."

Before the antidruid could attack next, a solid beam of pure sunlight burned into her. She fell back, unable to scream or talk, her eyes wide in pain and terror. Pain she could deal with, but her terror was the Aasimar holding the child, pure wings of golden light stretched out. Another bolt of sunlight already in his hand, the antidruid expected it to slam right into her as he cast it. Instead she heard a screech from the tentacle monster.

"Lorinda be the bear!" Kirann shouted as he flew off with the child in his arms.

He landed and put the child down, before he sent another blast at the tentacle monster. It howled as his power hit it, and even worse as both Val and Raven hacked away at it. He rushed forward, golden wings still out and began to pummel any spot he could find on the unearthly creature. Fists glowing with radiant energy, every blow burned at the creature, causing it to retreat in absolute fear.

It should have been watching Raven, as she cast another spell of fire. Aimed directly at one of the wounds Kirann had made, she jumped up in elation as the spell tore through the monster. The creature screeched a fatal scream as the monk and bard finished it off with fire and holy sun energy.

The antidruid back on her feet took aim, ready to destroy the fool who wounded her but never finished her off. Instead a massive paw slammed into her, sending the antidruid tearing across the ground. A savage roar and she barely got out of the way of a charging grizzly. She went to dominate the grizzly's mind, only to be rebuffed with such a force to cause her an instant headache.

"So, you still live pitiful druid," the antidruid coughed. "That stamina of the bear will probably give you a little more time, but not much. You are going to die."

"Long enough to end you!" the grizzly growled and was on her.

With their master dead, the risen skeletons were running amok with no direction. Some fought each other, others attacked anything that moved randomly. Leilani cast spell after spell, interrupting every so often to smash her weapon into an undead that got too close. She looked, and saw multiple lacerations across Walton's exposed skin. Several dents showed where the horde had gotten lucky with a few blunt weapons.

She screamed out as she struck down another skeleton, "This would be a great time for that turning undead thing you paladins do!"

"I'm not a paladin!" he yelled back, smashing another skeleton.

"Well, make good with your god, we could use the help!" she countered back. "The others have their hands full."

Walton growled, "I don't need any advice from a Dr-" However he stopped himself. "It's not that easy Lei," he finally said, all the strength flowing out of him.

Leilani shook her head, then blasted a skeleton that he had let get too close. Looking at it, he seemed to realize they were still in a battle. Once again, he started hewing and hacking anything without flesh and moved. Every so often he'd look up with apologetic eyes.

"Relax, Holy Boy," she called out to him. "Make it up to me by buying me a drink when we get back to town."

The antidruid fell to the ground, several deep wounds caused by claws released her life blood onto the ground. Even as she tried to raise up again, she fell, suddenly weak. She went to cast another spell, to steal life from the ground and all living things on it. Instead her face was crushed into the ground, and she felt something snap in her neck.

Her last sight was being raised into the air by a powerful form and dropped onto the ground. There facing the grizzly form of the druid, the antidruid fell into blackness. Her only comfort was knowing the druid was not long for this world. The poison would end her, as it had so many of the antidruid's own circle.

Lorinda roared for all to hear, so natural for her bear instincts. She was warning all those enemies that they should fear her, and leave her family alone. The form had great power, but it was still living. At that moment her wounds and the poison took its toll and the great bear form fell to the ground wheezing. She could feel herself getting weaker and weaker by the moment.

"Raven! She needs a healing spell if you have one," Kirann called out from her side.

Beside him a small voice cried, "Is the bear going to be okay? She stopped the bad people. Has to be okay!"

Lorinda turned her head slightly to see the child they had rescued. Her bear form grunted the closest thing to a warm comfort for the child. Kirann was hugging the child, which was just a thing he would do. A warrior that would smite evil, and then turn around to bring comfort to a child scared of terrifying world. The others were coming, she could smell them. She felt so tired, all she wanted to do was sleep.

"This bear is a friend of mine," Kirann explained to the child. "She's a mighty druid, and has been my dear friend since I was your age. No matter what we got into, she always stuck by my side. So, I know she'll be okay. She's too stubborn."

Raven smiled at Kirann's words. Beneath them she could hear his own fear. This was bad, but the real recipient of his encouragement wasn't the child. She would do what she could, but her spells had been burned through in the fight with the tentacle monster. Whatever she had left, she furiously cast to keep the druid stable.

Leilani fought back her tears, turning away from the bear that was her fellow Challenger. For all of her innate power, she had nothing that would help save this wonderful druid. Not for the first time she felt powerless. She couldn't let the child see her lose it, not with Kirann doing a fine job keeping the kid calm. That was when she noticed Walton wasn't nearby.

"Tyr! Why do you let these people be harmed, this isn't Justice!" Walton screamed to the heavens. "I fought for you, championed your ideals! How is this just?!"

"What is justice in this case, fallen one?" a voice rang out through the area.

Walton turned around, "Not this, not any of this. She is a good woman!"

"She fought Evil and righted a wrong, I'd call that Justice," the voice came back.

Walton drew his sword, "No! Her death doesn't serve the cause of Justice. It doesn't serve.."

"Then use your gifts to save her," the voice sternly rebuked Walton. "They were never taken from you. You just refuse to call upon them."

"I can't….not after what I…not," Walton stammered.

The voice became very powerful, nearly knocking him back, "So your pride is worth more than her life? You lecture me on what is Justice, but you'd let her die because you were fooled once?"

"I trusted you!" Walton shot back. "How could you abandon me?!"

"My child, I've never abandoned you," the voice explained. "I've been with you every step, amongst your friends as they've been there for you. I blessed your idea of redemption through service, and now I call out to you. Use the power I grant you to save your friend. If you don't, then the injustice is not with me, but in your own heart."

Walton knew the voice was gone, the presence retreating away. Leaving him with a choice, and one he knew he had to make. Gripping his blade, he called upon Tyr and reached out for the holy gifts granted upon him. Around him the glow of his armor returned, and his sword gleamed. He still didn't feel worthy, but he couldn't stand back and let Lorinda die.

Rushing back to the others, he found Kirann and Raven casting their limited healing abilities. Based on the faraway look in Lorinda's bear eyes, they were losing the battle. The child looking on at the dying bear, knowing even without being told that the druid was dying. An unfished prayer on the child's lips to anyone that would listen, god or mortal, to save his savior. Walton cried.

The flood of emotions, the dam of guilt he had built up fell away. With it came the positive energy of his party, and it felt so good it hurt. He pushed through it, calling on Tyr's gift to fill his hands with healing energy. Gently he laid them on the grizzly bear, and he let the energy flow from the Heavens through him.

Time gets funny based on your perception. An hour alone with your sweetheart seems to pass by in minutes, but hold onto a hot pan, then seconds feel like hours. So it was with Walton as the holy energy went through him to stabilize Lorinda. As he did, she slowly turned back into her Elven form. Then weakly she smiled at him, before falling unconscious. Hearing his god's voice again, he knew she would survive, but they'd need to get her to her people soon.

"Walton," Kirann shook him out of his mind. "Thank you, I believe you saved her."

"The poison is still there," Walton said, feeling weaker than he had in a long time. "Her circle may know how to cure her."

The monk nodded, "Well get her home, and I may have a way to keep her from getting worse. We'll rest for a moment before we get to moving."


	36. Chapter 36

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XXXVI

Strider's heart leapt for joy as the Challengers returned to the little town. Then it sank as he saw the limp form of their druid. The skeletons had lost their purpose and had begun to wander since they left. Thanks to that, the rangers, the remaining guards and some brave townspeople had destroyed them. That left the way clear for the Challengers, and from the look of the druid, it was fortuitous.

The rangers also caught the sight of the young child, hanging off the back of the Drow sorceress. The poor little one was resting, though little eyes were wide open. Success on stopping the evil ones and rescuing an innocent. These adventurers were every bit as mighty as gossip painted them.

Word spread amongst the remaining townspeople, and soon the returning heroes were enveloped. Joy and Hope returned to the town, and the inhabitants let out their repressed feelings. Insane happiness flowed and could only be burned off, there was no controlling it. After so much horror and death, the possibility of rebuilding and rebirth, lent them this manic energy.

Strider meanwhile went over and helped the monk carry their fallen member over to the now cleansed inn. Laying the druid on the table, he examined her as the monk explained how she had been poisoned. He had come across many plants that were natural remedies to poisons, and he still had very few left. Taking some roots out of his pack, he had the druid chew on them.

He smiled as she grimaced at the bitter taste of the roots. That taste wouldn't leave her taste for months, but at least it would help neutralize the poison. A little of her color returned, but the poison was still doing its worst to her. The ranger had to admit that he hadn't seen anything like that in the natural world.

"You've done this town a service they'll never be able to repay," Strider said. "I'll guide you back."

"Will they be safe?" Kirann asked.

"Thanks to you all," the ranger answered, "I'd say that they'll be safer than they have been in a long time. If we leave soon, we should be able to get on your way before dark."

Despite the protests of the townspeople, the Challengers did leave out soon afterwards. Leilani and Val took point as Strider the Ranger led them away. Kirann and Walton carried Lorinda on a crude litter, while Raven played for them as they did. It was the most somber musical trek through the fields.

To the druid being carried, pain wracked her body. The heals from Kirann and Walton helped, but she felt something very wrong. Still, as she watched, life returned to the ground around her. Once drained lands were slowing refilling with color, and that brought her a certain peace she could not deny. It helped a little with the pain, just knowing that she had done her duty.

They found their cart and grazing horses where they had been left. The group gingerly loaded Lorinda into the back, making sure she was comfortable and warm. Raven and Val readied their team, hitching them to the wagon. Once all the work was done, they were ready to go, and it was time to say goodbye to their new friend.

"Strider, my thanks in your aid," Kirann said.

The ranger put a hand to his chest, "If you are ever back in this area, know you are a friend to us."

Raven spoke next, "What will you all do now? To lose so many."

"You'd be surprised at the grit of the townspeople," he replied. "They'll rebuild, they'll go on. As for us rangers, we'll send someone back to the lodge now, and see if anyone else survived. Maybe we'll be pleasantly surprised. No matter what, we have a duty to protect the land and the people."

"Then I wish you much success in that endeavor," Kirann said. "If you ever need aid again, we came from Altamar on the coast."

Strider smiled, "A more motley and goodly crew I could not ask for. Safe travels my friends."

"Good journeys," Kirann replied.

He then climbed up into the driver's seat of the cart and moved his team forward. The ranger disappeared as he drove the team away. They weren't heading back to Altamar, though one of the priests there might be able to help. Instead they were heading to the druid circle at Monk's Garden, outside of Tyranfal. He hoped they reached there in time to heal Lorinda.

Later that night, in the newly liberated town, Strider sat under the stars. Peace had been restored, and inn was hosting a party. A rather small one, with the limited numbers and resources available. Tomorrow would be rebuilding, tonight was for celebrating. His mind though was on the adventurers, and where their path would lead them. He also missed old comrades, mourning their loss.

A bright light erupted from the towns edge, and he grabbed his weapons feeling very weary. Moments later he nearly dropped his bow, as he saw what made the illumination. Shaped like a man, but with luminous odd shaped wings; the illuminated figure was so bright as a midday sun. Unable to see the man's features, something about his form was familiar. Strider just couldn't place it.

However, none of that mattered as a new figure walked from around the luminous being. The ranger ran forward and embraced his thought lost brother in arms. The bigger man returned it, and had a huge smile plastered on his face. Strider had to pull the man back, just to doublecheck.

"How?" was the only word Strider could ask.

Bear smiled and pointed to the luminous man, "I went looking for the boys and was knocked the ground. Hours later I wake to see this spirit, and he led me to some others. Mostly townies, but a few of our fellow rangers."

Strider smiled brightly, "This is a miracle."

"You have no idea!" the big ranger reached up to his shoulder, where a familiar sight was back. "Fennis is back!"

Strider wasn't sure he could feel anymore amazed, but apparently he could. He did recognize the animal on Bear's shoulder. It was the little fox his big friend had nursed back to health, and was his companion. Strider had seen the poor thing dead, had seen it send this big gentle man into a ferocious rage.

He turned to the brightly glowing man, "How?"

Though he couldn't see the figure's head turn, he somehow knew it had. So bright as to be blinding even during the day, the light pouring of the figure was like looking into a blazing sun. What shook the ranger to his core was the being's voice. Almost like two voices speaking at once, and rumbling with echoes, this voice wasn't that of something of this plane.

"Make right what once went wrong," the being said, before disappearing in a blast of light.

The ranger felt a wide many of things at once. However, his mind reminded him that there was something familiar about the being. Something about how the figure stood, carried himself, reminded Strider of someone else. Even the voice sounded like someone he had met, he just couldn't place whom it was. The one thing he could say, was that the figure didn't come off as an evil presence. Not that it stopped him from being terrified by the glowing man.

"Let's get you all back to everyone else," Strider said, purely exhausted by the events of the day.

That night a little more hope came back to that small town. Along with Bear, others were led back. Some families were reunited, others found comfort in the arms of their neighbors. In the days ahead they would indeed rebuild, and thanks to the example set by the adventurers, renamed. At first, they called it Heroes' Respite, but it just got shortened to Respite.

While the villagers were celebrating, Kirann watched over his poisoned friend. Her body was fighting the poison, nearly burning up with fever as it did so. He applied a wet cloth to her brow. Hours later it would be Val and Leilani taking turns, with Walton pulling the shift before sunrise. Throughout the whole night, Lorinda would speak through her fevered dreams. None of what she said made sense, or was intelligible as speech.

The following day Kirann pushed the horses as far as he dared, knowing full well that too much would kill them. Besides being contrary to his nature, Lorinda valued life in nature. She wouldn't want any living being harmed for no reason, or where it could be helped. So, he rested the horses every so often. While he did, he went back to check on the druid.

Raven was tending to her, but she looked even more worried than Kirann. At least this time Lorinda was awake and alert. She spoke, albeit with minor difficulty to them all. The others kept her company, and tried to keep her spirits up.

The monk checked on the horses. They were grazing and seemed to have caught a bit of agitation from the party. Horses being herd animals, this wasn't too unusual. To calm them, Kirann reached out with his ki. The horses responded back, nuzzling his hair and making him break his connection. Laughing, he pushed their heads away, but they came back. He wasn't able to read them like Lorinda, but he could read their chi.

"Don't worry, we'll get moving again soon," he found himself saying to the two animals. "You two rest up, so we can get their quickly."

Both horses whinnied, before going back to grazing. They were almost ready. It made him feel good to know that they were concerned for his friend. Maybe it was because she was a druid, but he liked to think the horses had grown attached to his little group. He rubbed their heads and necks, showing his affection. Soon the horses were showing their readiness to continue, and the group was on the trail again.

Eventually the group made it to the outskirts of Tyranfal. Kirann turned the cart northward, heading to the monastery and the path he knew to the druid circle. Curious eyes followed them, most unused to having traffic come, outside of normal caravan times. The same curiosity led to waiting sentinels up the road.

"Halt, what is your business here?" asked a rugged looking man, who stood barefoot on the trail.

"I am Kirann, and I have one of your circle here in need of aid. She was poisoned," the monk explained.

The man looked into the cart, "You have devils and Drow!"

Quick as a cat Kirann was down and right in the man's face, "Listen now. One of your fellow druids is fighting for her life. She fought one of your kind that perverted Nature. These two are our friends. Now, are you going to lead us in, or do I add you to the back with her?"

Raven stifled a laugh at the uncharacteristic gruffness in the monk's voice. There must have been something in his words, or maybe in the steely stare, because the druid backed down. The man went back to the front and led the cart into the Circle. This of course didn't happen without the customary glare, as a way for the druid to reclaim just a tad of his ego.

Kirann paid no heed to this. Instead healers were called and he helped Walton carry Lorinda into the nearby hall. When he was first here, he had marveled at how the hall had been crafted. As if sculpted from the ground, there was no dead wood in its construction. Living trees made the beams and supports, while mud and living grasses made the insulation and walls. Stone was intermixed between, strengthening and giving the hall form. It also formed the seats and tables the druids used for a variety of reasons.

The druids had them put Lorinda onto one of these stone tables. Beneath her they put a blanket, and they covered her with another. She still had a fever, but it wasn't as bad as it had been before. A healer came, looked over the fallen druid and her face turned sour. Kirann went to speak, but the healer held up a hand.

That healer left, coming back very quickly with the archdruid. Both looked Lorinda over, before coming to talk with the remaining Challengers. There was no deception in the archdruid's eyes as he began to speak to the gathered heroes. There was a warmth in them, reflecting the positive aspects of Nature.

"She is very sick," the archdruid explained. "I have seen this before, but it has been many years. Normally it kills withing the first few days after infection. However, she is strong and you have taken great care of her."

Kirann explained, "An evil druid, an antidruid, poisoned her during a fight."

"That would explain it," the archdruid continued. "In the past we ran into several of our misguided brothers and sisters, who went down dark paths. They perverted gifts to make horrible diseases, poisons and venoms. I believe this particular variety is called Shar's Ichor."

"Can you heal her?" Raven asked, a dark feeling rising up to quash the hopeful feeling, that getting Lorinda back here had given.

The archdruid nodded, "It will be a long, arduous process. It may take many weeks, or longer. She could also be permanently disabled by this, only time will tell." Noticing Raven's shoulders slump, the archdruid tried again. "None of this is certain. Knowing her, she'll be back up and terrorizing the Circle again in no time."

Before Raven could ask, Kirann explained, "Lorinda gets a little stir crazy when she feels cooped up. That is why she kept running off after her lessons to the monastery. It was how we first met."

The archdruid smiled, "Yes, young Kirann, you two became fast friends. Not that I disapproved, your self-discipline wore off on her."

"She is a good friend, always willing to go exploring with me," Kirann said. "We both watched out for each other."

"Now you have more friends, diverse as they are," the archdruid looked over them, stopping on Leilani and Raven.

Kirann nodded, "All good friends, and ones that I'm grateful to have. I will never leave any of them alone, if I can help it."

The Challengers were taken to another hall, where they were given rest if they wanted it. At first all but Kirann were unsure of what to do, or how things worked around the Circle. He quickly showed them where things were kept, and that the mushroom beds were quite comfy. Once that was taken care of, they took turns checking on Lorinda in pairs.

By the next day she had stabilized, and healers had advised the poison had been neutralized. However, they advised that she had a long road of recovery. The poison had done considerable damage, but they felt better that she would make a full, or near full recovery. It would take time, more time than they felt comfortable predicting.

Kirann and Raven watched over her as the healers left, the other druids helping them out. They had used a lot of energy, wearing themselves out, to cure this poison. More would be by later to check on her later, but at that time it was just the monk and the bard. Both talked quietly to her, telling just daily things that happened in the circle.

Lorinda spoke, interrupting them, "How bad is it?"

"They cured the poison," Raven said. "You need to recover now."

Kirann nodded, "They aren't sure how long that would take."

"I see," Lorinda smiled. "You need to get back on the road."

Kirann shook his head, "We can wait a while…"

The druid laughed, "No, you are needed out there. How many towns and people have been destroyed waiting for you to come into being? While you wait, how much more will Evil take from good people? No, I wish I could be out there with you, but you are needed."

"I am needed here too," he said.

"We are here for you," Raven said.

Lorinda nodded, "I know. I was so wrong about you, Raven. Your adventure is just starting, and he needs you too. The world needs both of you. I have my Circle, and don't you doubt I'll be joining you when I can. Till then, go out there and change the world. You've changed mine so much."

"One condition," Kirann said. "You fight with all your might to get better."

"Don't you worry," she said. "I'll have to, just to keep you from letting that big heart of yours get you killed!" Then thinking better of that, "I know I joke about it, but you let that heart guide you. It is truly what makes you special, not your heritage, not your monk abilities. Your heart is what makes these wondrous changes possible."

Kirann smiled, "I won't forget. Now, rest up."

She did, as Raven brought her arm around the monk. She squeezed him, letting him know he wasn't alone. They watched over Lorinda a bit more, before Val and Walton took over. They went back to their shared quarters, letting the day seep out of them. Unfortunately, their peace was interrupted by a knock on the door frame. One of the student druids stood there waiting on them.

"Monk Kirann," the young man said. "Your monastery requests your presence, at your convenience."


	37. Chapter 37

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XXXVII

Later that day, Raven stood amongst large, ornate buildings that was the Sun's Edge Monastery. In the largest building, where the grandmasters lived on the upper floors, and students trained on the lower two floors, she glided. The expansive training area was decorated banners and written training instructions in one of the languages of Kara-Tur.

Students cleaned the training room, while others trained outside in the courtyard. Masters watched over them, correcting when needed. Those not in training or cleaning were preparing for the evening's meal, which was being made in the huge kitchen building behind the training building. Still others were taking some well-deserved relaxation in the outlying student barracks.

The monastery was set up in a circular pattern, with the ornate central training building encircled by the training barracks. Broken up between the buildings were gardens and fountains, forming peaceful little pockets. Used as a contrast to the more energetic and lively training areas, residents would come for meditation and reflection.

She felt herself being drawn to one of the reflection pools. The Tiefling bard could sense a magic unlike any she had felt, besides when Kirann fought. Here it seemed seeped into the ground, saturated the air and seemed to vibrate all around. She also felt like the whole area was wrapped in a warm blanket, and she found herself letting her guard down.

"It is a wonder that Kirann ever left," Raven said more to herself than anyone else. "This place feels like a paradise on Faerun."

"The call to explore, my old student has," a voice caught Raven off, and she nearly jumped three feet into the air. The older woman smiled gently, "Startled you, I did not mean to."

"It's okay, I was just taken by the beauty of this place," Raven said. "You said your old student?"

"One as curious as him, my old student has found," the older woman laughed. "In my travels, come across his family, I did. In him, I saw much potential." Then the old woman took Raven by the arm. "Missing my manners, I am. Master Fa, they call me. Welcome to call me, Ming-Wa, you are."

"I am, Raven," the bard introduced herself.

Ming-Wa nodded, "The way he speaks of you, figured as much, I did. All good are his words, when of you he speaks."

Raven tried to hide her blush, but she had more experience hiding her hurt than positive emotions. Which said more about her upbringing than she wanted to admit, and how much she had to rely on herself in the past. However, just like Kirann, this woman seemed to look upon her as a person.

Ming-Wa pointed to the pool, she had brought them, "Into the pool you look, what stares back?"

Confused Raven answered, "I see the sky, the birds and us. The pool is so still it is like a mirror."

"Not wrong, you are," Ming-Wa laughed. "Shows what is there, the pool does. More interesting though, what you see when you look."

Raven's smile turned into a frown, "Someone stuck. Cursed by my blood to be an outcast."

"Not uncommon that feeling is," the older woman gently said. "Instincts passed down, a struggle to deal with. Stories I've heard, say mastered you have these urges."

"Maybe," Raven said sadly. Then thinking of her friends, her new family. "I'm not alone anymore."

Ming-Wa nodded, "No, you are not. Lightly my student does not choose his friends. Come, find him we will."

The older woman led Raven back towards the main building. For a brief moment, the Tiefling held back, looking at her reflection one more time. She had seen something else, something unexpected. Her horns looked less sinister, less monstrous. Maybe it was just how long she had stayed in her glamour, or maybe she was just accepting herself more.

They found Kirann sitting in front of the grandmaster of the Sun's Edge Monastery. The wizened old man was chuckling at something the younger monk had said. The older man noticed the two women and called them over. In from another entrance came the rest of the Challengers, with Walton's armor looking remarkably cleaned up.

"Greetings, friends of Kirann," the wizend old man said. "I hope you are enjoying our hospitality." To Kirann, "Months ago you left us on a journey of self-discovery. Since then you have grown in skill and power. In your eyes I see many successes and setbacks, but always a will to continue on.

Word of your exploits has even reached our simple monastery, and you have brought great honor to us. A kingdom saved, evil brought forth to be judged and uplifting the downtrodden. A legend has grown around you and your band.

It is with great pleasure that I raise you in rank to Sun Warrior Kirann Lichtus. A warrior that exemplifies the qualities of Sunsoul Order, and an example to the world of the best of us. Honored guests, this is a rare event, with few Sun Warriors appearing in a generation. A living embodiment, an ambassador of us out in the world."

"I'm deeply honored, Grand Master," Kirann said.

The Grand Master laughed, "Your teacher said you were one of few words. What are your plans now?"

"A kingdom rebuilding has given us a mission, I'll finish it," Kirann said matter of factly.

The Grand Master shrugged, "Then at least rest here for a few days. That will give our artisans time to create your new uniform."

"On behalf of my group, we accept," Kirann said as he rose.

Raven came up to him, her smile big and warm. She embraced him in a hearty hug and he returned it. Off to the side, his teacher cleared her throat, which brought the bard back to where she was. She sheepishly tried to find a hole to hide in, but Kirann just pulled her in close to him. He also gave his teacher a look that made her burst into laughter.

She led them to the dining hall, which was just in the front of the kitchen building. There they all ate with the other students of the monastery. There were other guests there too, none aware of the ceremony that had just happened. It was easy to tell, as they stood out, as did most of the Challengers.

Of the guests, one was notably a cleric. His holy symbol wasn't able to be seen, and his robes were similar to other clerics in the area. There was also a fighter, still clad in highly dented and used armor. Kirann spied a mage, nose stuck in a book, even as he ate. One of Lorinda's druid circle was here as well, not an uncommon sight. The oddest was a halfling spinning a beautiful jewel on a pendant.

Each of the Challengers quickly adopted training routines with the people of the monastery. Walton a visiting Kensei to practice with, while Val studied with Kunoichi that was traveling with the Kensei. Leilani and Raven found themselves in the library, pouring over tomes and knowledge. Kirann spent his time assisting the other students, showing them ways to better their techniques. All learned from his time on the road, and many of a student challenged him to test their skill.

It was on the third day that Ming-Wa Ha came for him. She led him away from the others and to a small clearing at the outskirts of the monastery. There she stopped and beckoned for him to the outside area. He understood, even as she began to speak.

"My student, you've grown strong," she said. "A little test to see how strong. There is a technique, Searing Sunburst. Master it you must, training you already have on it."

Kirann remembered her showing him the technique, explaining it. He just lacked the focus and ability to do it. She had always told him, that such an advanced technique would take time to master. He was to practice it when he practiced his other skill, and one day he'd achieve this skill. He had, throughout all his travels done this. Not once had he succeeded in pulling the energy to him.

That had changed recently, he felt the power within grow and he'd become more confident in his abilities. Something outside of him, maybe even guiding him told it was the time. Not, Al, the Celestial had been quiet of late. This was something else, almost like an echo of what could be. He listened.

Pulling his Ki in around him, he focused it all. First into a ball sized object of blazing light. The orb blazed in his hand, so hot to burn anyone else besides him. Feeling the power in his hand, he wound up and threw the orb to the center of the clearing. Made exactly for this type of test, the ground shook, dirt flew far into the air and blinding light even eclipsed the daylight. A huge crater was all that was left when everything returned to normal, and Kirann had a huge grin plastered on his face. He turned to his teacher, and she looked very proud of her student.

"Learned all I have to teach, you have," she said. "Most of what you have left to learn, the world will provide."

Kirann said, "I will do you proud, Teacher."

"You already have," she smiled at him. "Now, back to your friends. I have taken enough of your time."

As they headed back, the rest of the Challengers met them, fully armored and armed. Kirann had to put them all at ease, explaining what had happened. While he did this, his old teacher went to talk with the grand master. She would see her student again, but her time with him was nearly over now. He was getting powerful enough to pass on his knowledge, a student he should take soon.


	38. Chapter 38

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XXXVIII

That night Kirann and his group enjoyed a dinner cooked by the monastery chefs. A good meal was always welcome over trail food, even when they managed to cook over the campfire. Val dug in, eating voraciously, despite the concerned looks of their hosts. Raven chuckled, loving how in the moment the rogue lived. The others were more reserved, with Leilani taking her lead from Kirann. He sat enjoying, but reserved.

The Drow didn't miss the looks aimed at her, and thought better of not wearing the mask while inside the monastery's grounds. The owners of those cross looks held their tongues, which was a marked improvement of how things normally turned out. She would keep an eye on them, but for the moment it seemed dirty looks were all she was going to get.

Those same eyes looked unfavorably on Raven, but many were more favorable. It didn't hurt that Kirann mentioned her entrance into the bard's arts. Before she knew it, guitar in hand, she was singing songs for the gathered monks. Her lyrical voice lifting across the gathered dinner hall. Soon, people were dancing and joining her in song. What people don't tell you, monks have rhythm.

Later that night, the Challengers were high on life. They each returned to their guest rooms, Kirann retreating to the room that used to be his. There hung his new uniform, the one created for him to show his rise to Sun Warrior. Gingerly he picked it up and looked it over. Like his current uniform, this one was finely made. Soft and flexible, but made with materials to help stop blades and other assorted weapons.

The tunic was red, with orange trim. The colors of the early morning sun, associated with Lathander, the Morning Lord. Scourge of the undead, bringer of the dawn, over youth and babies, Lathander was many things. He was one of the trinity of Gods that Sun Soul monks usually were in the service of. Sune, and Selune rounded out the trinity, though there was talk that Amauntor was connected, since his return.

The blue under tunic matched the flexible pants material, and his new boots were a dark navy blue. A nice cool color to offset the fiery colors of the tunic, balancing out fire and ice, cool and warm. Centered just like a monk during meditation. They would be a reminder as well as a beacon, marking him as a warrior against evil. He was okay with that.

"I see you've moved up, kid," a familiar voice said as Al materialized. "Sun Warrior, that is a mighty promotion."

"It's been a while," Kirann said. "Everything okay?"

"I could say your recent adventures have caused a paperwork pile up," Al smirked. "The truth is I've been checking in on you. You're not doing too bad."

"But?" Kirann turned. "When one starts a speech like that, there is always a but."

Al sighed, "You've gained attention, from those best left not knowing you exist. Sparing Raven's patron caused a ruckus in the Hells. I believe he's sending someone after you."

"Something tells me there is more," Kirann said.

Al laughed, "Yes, that anti druid you fought, there is a bigger plan. An evil presence was behind that, and you ruined their plans. They'll be looking to take you out, and I don't need to remind you that the fallen Aasimar is still out there."

"Can you see any way of redeeming him?" Kirann asked gently. "I couldn't see much good left in him."

"If you could find good in him, they might as well raise you to godhood now," Al responded. "Because there is not much good left in him."

"I was afraid of that," Kirann said. "If we run across him again, we'll need to stop him."

Al moved around, "Your hurt him, humiliated him again and again. He'll be coming to look for you. You won't have to worry about that." Then taking a breath the Celestial angel let it back out. "Listen kid, I didn't mean to ruin your celebration. I just wanted you to be ready."

"I know," Kirann said.

The next day begun and Raven found herself up early. She normally liked to sleep a little bit later, but something was pulling at her. She wandered around the monastery, enjoying the peacefulness of it all. Different from her younger years, surrounded by the noises of the towns and cities. Thanks to her time on the road, this place wasn't too quiet. Before she would have found the silence deafening, but now she could pick out the sounds of the morning.

What she wasn't expecting, was to find Leilani up and standing where the students trained. Raven went over to her, curious and glad to have a friend up this early. The Drow wasn't looking at anything in particular though. As Raven got closer, she noticed Leilani had her eyes closed, seeming to enjoy the wind pulling at her silver white hair. A small smile spread and Raven could see a tiny tear fall down the other woman's cheek.

Leilani opened her eyes and turned to see Raven, "Apologies, I didn't hear you come up."

"I believe I am the one that intruded on your moment," Raven sheepishly said.

Leilani shook her head, "No, you didn't. I was just thinking of someone dear."

"Ah, are they okay?" Raven inquired.

Leilani shrugged, "I believe so. It's been a long time since I've returned home."

"I moved around too much to have a true home," Raven explained. "But if I had one, it would be this peaceful. I think I like it."

"We leave today, don't we?" the Drow asked.

Raven nodded, "I believe so. Did you have something you wanted to do here first?"

"I think I've already done it," the other woman said in reply. "Do you think you'd be proud if your daughter was like me?"

"Definitely," Raven quickly replied and pulled Leilani into a hug. "What brought this on?"

"You'd know, how everything looks at us," Leilani let herself relax. "By my birth I'm marked. I've lived my whole life on the surface and yet, they look at me like any other Drow."

Raven thought for a moment, "You're right, it was one of the reasons my patron gave me a disguise. Yet, even in that, I still didn't feel like I could be me. I was always playing a part. Now, I play many parts, but I can finally be me. You will always have a place, with us."

"Maybe, but what about when you and Kirann retire?" Leilani mused. "Lorinda is the only other one that will live as long as I will. Val will gray before my eyes. My whole family gone."

Raven squeezed her tighter, "You'll always have a place at my home, on the road, on a farm, or in a huge mansion in a city."

"Thanks. Sorry, I just….It's hard you know, trying to make up for actions I've never done," Leilani sighed.

"I believe our wise monk would tell you not to," Raven smiled. "Just be you, and show the world how great you really are. They'll see you as we do, that I have no doubt about."

The Drow laughed, "Thanks, I needed that. Listen, don't tell anyone else about this. I don't need them pitying me."

"I won't," Raven said. "You should though. We're family, a weird family full of odd people. We're here for you, even grumpy Lorinda. Is it weird I kind of miss not seeing her with us?"

Leilani laughed, "Now that you mention it, I do miss her daily scowls! Let's hope she heals fast. It's just not the same without her."

"Agreed," Raven laughed.

The rest of the morning followed the routine of the last few days, with the exception of the Challengers gathering supplies for their trip. They still had ground to cover before winter came, and the lands around Altamar needed to be scouted. The lord of Altamar was depending on them to do what they did, while he rebuilt his forces.

Kirann was wearing his new uniform, and the bright red color caught all their eyes. There was the obligatory teasing, but they approved of his new look. Now he looked the part of the dashing hero monk, champion of all that was right and good. He took their ribbing in stride.

There was one final obligation they had before they could leave, which turned out to be a surprise to them. The master of the monastery called them all to bear witness to a ceremony. Each of the Challengers looked at Kirann for explanation, but he didn't have any answer for them. He was just as curious as they were, but things were about to be answered for him.

Everyone was gathered around, with the grand master of the monastery stood at the center, addressing them all. Standing in orderly rows, the monks all listened to their grand master. A wizened old man, full of knowledge and wisdom, but one that was still a force to be reckoned with. Recently the ravages of time had started to catch up to him, a testament to the near century of starting his journey.

"Thank you all for coming," the grand master began. "I have watched over this peaceful place for decades upon decades. It has been my privilege to see many students come to train and go out into the world. Many have returned and began teaching here, others formed their own monasteries. In all this time, I have seen many miracles and disaster fall upon this world.

In all that time, we have endured. Recently we named a new Sun Warrior, our ambassador to the outside world of what and who we are. He was brought to us years ago by someone who saw his untapped potential. He wasn't her first student, and each one has gone on to bring honor to her.

As we enter a new era for our order, it requires one such as her. Someone who can see the potential and bring it out in others. One who can lead us on, and has the tenacity to match her wisdom. For years I have led this way, and as the twilight comes upon me, I can think of no other person for this role.

Ming-Wa Fa, I leave this monastery in your capable hands. You, I name our new grand master."

Kirann's teacher came up, clearly caught unaware. He cheered for her, knowing she would make a great grand master. She shot him a look, asking if he knew what had been planned. He shook his head, but couldn't argue that it was a good decision. He would miss the old man, the old grand master was both kind and stern, but also easy to talk to.

Hours later the Challengers left the monastery. The old and new grand master had spent that time in preparation for the change. The old would travel, find a remote mountain top or area to retire to. There he'd spend his days in meditation and contemplation. A peaceful retirement for one who had weathered the tumultuous events of a chaotic world.

"Return soon, always good it is, to see a good friend," Ming-Wa told Kirann. "Lucky you are, to have such companions on your travels. Take care of them."

"That is the plan," he replied back. "If you ever need anything, let me know."

She bowed to him, going low enough to meet his bow as an equal. As the new grand master, this would be unheard of, but to her, he was still her student. At least for one more day, one more time to see him as that little boy that had turned into a man. Despite herself, Ming-Wa found herself tearing up a bit.

The Challengers left, Kirann hanging back just long enough to wave one final time at his teacher. They followed the pathway back and retrieved their cart and horses. Taken care of by the druids, the horses were happy to see the group. Raven nuzzled the horses, as they rubbed heads against hers. They did the same with Kirann, begging for food. He threw them both an apple.

On the road again, the Challengers were not sure how to feel. One of their own was sick, and they missed her. The plan was to come back and check on her before heading back to Altamar. Kirann drove the team horses on, while Raven played a little ditty on her guitar. The same focus she had brought to being a warlock, she brought to her new studies as a bard. He didn't mind, she had a good singing voice and her playing was masterful.

They were interrupted by loud screams. Stopping their cart, Kirann and the rest rushed towards the screaming. What they found was a giant attacking a farm with a massive club. Behind the giant, was a light blue skinned young man chained. It was just the one giant, they could take it.

Signaling to Val, he had her go behind the giant. Meanwhile he had Raven start playing a fight song. That got the giant's attention, he the attention back with a well placed sun fire blast. The giant screamed as half its face melted off, and wildly swung out. Kirann jumped away, and the giant missed. Leilani cast a fireball, that hit the giant in the center of the chest. As it stumbled back, Val hit the giant's calf with her swords.

She dodged just as the giant fell to the ground, and Walton brought his sword down where its neck was. His blade sank deep into giant's neck, but didn't immediately kill it. Instead it flung him away, and he crashed hard onto the ground. However, he didn't have to worry, Kirann ended the giant with an axe kick to the temple. The skull of the giant caved in, and it gasped one final time. The giant taken care of, it was time to deal with its prisoner.


	39. Chapter 39

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XXXIX

The blue skinned young man met the Challengers with a mighty roar and rattling of his chains. Because part of his chain was now under the bulk of the fallen giant, the young man was unable to effectively use them as an improvised weapon. All he could do was thrash and make a racket. None of which seemed to dissuade the motely band from coming closer.

A bright lance of energy blasted the chains connecting the young man, and a holy blade split the chain in twain. The young man stumbled back, his hands were still bound, but now he might be able to fight back. He whipped out with the chain and was rewarded with part of the group jumping back. He whipped towards the unarmed man, but he kept coming. With the slightest of movements, the unarmed man shifted, with the chain harmlessly snapping to his right.

"You are safe," Kirann said to the young man. "Do you understand me?"

In response the young man slashed out with his makeshift weapon. Kirann dodged easily, and grabbed the chain. Pulling hard, he managed to knock the other man off balance. He then let go of the chain, and stepped back. He wasn't trying to win a fight, just get the young man's attention.

"We mean you no harm," he said. "Do you need healing?"

"Back off!" the young man screamed. "I will not trade one master for another!"

"Which is good," Kirann laughed. "I have no need for a servant."

"You may need more clothing if you don't want to get arrested," Raven gently said.

The young man swung out at her, "Back off Demon!" Noticing the darker skin of Lelani, "You too demon loving Elf!"

The Drow Sorceress sighed heavily, "Even when liberating someone, all they can see is the skin."

"These are my friends," Kirann explained. "I am Sun Warrior Kirann Lichtus. We are friends."

"I don't believe you!" the blue skinned young man shot back. "Stay back, or I'll dine on your bones!"

"With hands bound, I think you might have a hard time with that," Walton said. "I am a paladin of Tyr. I give you my word that you are safe."

"Let me have your hand as your god did, and we'll talk," the young man savagely growled.

"I'm sorry to say, I still need it for his works," Walton laughed. "Here, we have some water and supplies you can have. You look hungry."

"Our rogue can take care of those shackles," Kirann added in. "Accept our help or stay bound."

The young man thought for a moment before he spoke, "Lie to me and I'll bring Tempus' wrath upon you!"

About an hour later, the young man was free, and slurping down the offered water and chowing down on the rations. He still looked at the group with distrust, but he had stopped trying to fight them. He refused to ride in the cart with the others, instead walking alongside it. He did take a well-worn, but still warm cloak offered to him. At least now he didn't have to run around in just a loincloth.

"What is your story?" Raven asked, curious about how the young man had come into this predicament.

"I will not tell a Devil anything to be used against me," the young man growled.

Kirann shot him a warning look, "What about a name, so we know what to call you?"

"Very well, I am Dagarth," the young man said.

"Is your town nearby, or your people?" Walton asked.

The young man shrunk for a moment, "I have no people. Enough of these questions."

"We are patrolling the Altmaran lands," Kirann explained. "Is there someplace we can take you?"

"I have no home among these gentle folks. I will make my way northward, back to the barbarian lands of Icewind Dale. There, I may finally be home," Dagarth sadly said.

"You're far away from home, why don't you travel with us for a while?" Val piped in. "I'm sure we can find a ship going that way when spring comes again."

"I will not serve Demons or Evil Elves," Dagarth shot a look at Raven and Leilani.

Kirann slowed the team pulling the cart down. Once at a stop he hopped off his driving seat and stood in front of the youthful barbarian. He didn't raise a hand, or flick a wrist. He didn't need to. Just his mere presence has come to instill respect in those facing off against him. The eye contact he made with the young man, makes the young man flinch without meaning too. It is a blow to his pride, one he is about to act on when the monk speaks.

"I will remind you again. These two are my friends, and they helped free you. That dead giant back there took all of us," Kirann's voice lowered by a register. "Do not dishonor yourself by disregarding their acts."

"My apologies then," the young man growled.

"Good," Kirann's voice changed back to the usual friendly tone he had. "What skills do you have?"

"I was trained by my people to fight, and I am strong," Dagarth responded.

Kirann was already back in the wagon's driver seat, "I bet you can. What is your weapon, axe, sword of knives?"

"Knives, you 'civilized' folk really are weaklings," Dagarth laughed. "Give me a good axe and I would have split Blarg's head myself."

"That was the giant who had you chained up?" Val asked.

Dagarth cursed something incomprehensible, "I was tricked…I said that was enough about my past. It is my own and I will not be telling it tonight."

"Okay, just curious," Val said as she slumped back down into the wagon. "Just remember that you can rest up here if you get tired."

"I don't tire," Dagarth shot back, and realized how harsh it sounded, just after he said it. Why it mattered to him, he didn't know. The Half-Elf was too skinny for him, he liked his women with some muscle on them. Though he did admit she had a certain charm, and it had been a while since he'd lain with a woman. That had to be it.

They traveled for a couple of days, before they reached another small village. Dagarth was true that he didn't need to sleep as often as the others, but he eventually did. As they pulled into the small town, the blue skinned youth was resting in the cart. Unaware he had relented to the offers, he was resting peacefully. Only the occasional snarl or jerky movements showed his dreams weren't as peaceful.

The day was long, nearly to dusk as the sun began its westward travel. Walton organized rooms for them at the inn, while Kirann and Raven took the sluggish Dagarth to the local tailor. Leilani and Val tended to the horses, getting them stabled up near the inn.

Leilani was back in her magic mask, disguising herself as a traveling Elf. Her recent travels to the monastery and druid circle taught her that only her friends could see her true self. A bit lonely, but better than being ran out from town after town. Val must have sensed her sadness, because the rogue came up and gave her a gently hug. Leilani smiled, her little family was at least there for her.

"That is a big boy," the tailor said looking over Dagarth. "You are adventurers, aren't you? Why not get him some armor from the smith down the street?"

"I need no armor little man!" Dagart boasted.

"We may need the smith for a weapon for him," Kirann said.

Raven added, "We just need to get him less naked. He may not see any shame, but I think there were some young ladies fainting in the street as we brought him in."

"It is true, that our young men have the sense to be more clothed," the tailor said as he pulled out his tape. "Where did you say you found him?"

"Trying to escape a giant," Kirann answered. "Lack of shame may have more to do with that."

"Well he's got the look of the barbarians of the north, but also that of the Ice Giants," the tailor said. "Had a drunk adventuring party bring me one to clothe one time. They got a kick out of this dimwitted giant prancing around in people's clothing."

At this Dagarth shot a deadly gaze at the tailor, "Mark your words well little man, for they could be your last."

"Your bluster doesn't scare me," the tailor replied, still measuring Dagarth. "Do you think you're the first to threaten me? You won't be the last, I can tell you that. Now, I will tell you that I hated what they did to that Ice Giant. Especially when they killed him before leaving town. Poor thing was buried out on the outskirts with all the proper rites. We aren't savages here, you know."

"That was very noble of you," Kirann said.

The tailor stopped, as if the memory caused him pain, "Nobody should have that done to them. Killed by people you thought were your friends."

"Who were these people?" Kirann asked, and Raven heard the edge in his voice. "How long ago was it?"

"They called themselves the Masters of Horus," the tailor explained. "We just called them the Murder Hobos. They hated that. It got back to them that a young man called them that, and they were not kind. I believe they found his body, desecrated in the most vile ways. Above it, they found his sister, also desecrated, but still alive. This was before they killed the Ice Giant."

"Who went after them?!" Dagarth demanded. "That type of heinousness deserves death!"

"Well, if you haven't figured out big boy, we don't have a lot of fighting types here," the tailor said as he went back to his calculations. "We were just glad they left, and hope they aren't coming back to bunk for the winter."

"So, it was recently?" Kirann asked.

The tailor nodded, "Happened about a month ago. If you consider that recently, than yes." Looking up from his work. "I have some clothing that I can make to fit your friend. It'll do on the road, but won't have any protection on it. Should be ready by tomorrow afternoon, if that is fine."

Kirann nodded, "That'll be fine. Thank you, master tailor."

"You should teach your big friend some of those manners," the tailor said as he put his work off to the side.

Dagarth went to object, but Kirann and Raven led him away. Back to the inn, they went, finding the others waiting on them at a table. Food was already ordered, though they ordered some more after seeing Dagarth wolf down his food hungrily. The tavern wench brought more out, and that too disappeared in a flash. So much so, that she was struck by the rapidity of the order of events. Kirann gave her a tip, and thanked her.

She left, but not before looking over the half-naked, blue skinned man. She found herself thinking about those obvious muscles, and his good looks. Distracted, she almost ran into the counter, where the inn keep was watching. He gave her a good ribbing, and she tried to hide in the back. Yet, she still found herself sneaking back upfront, and hovering around. There was something primal in that young man that called out to her. She also knew, that what she wanted to do, would lead to nothing but trouble.

Any thoughts of getting into that kind of trouble were quickly dashed. The young man was in the same room as the other two adventuring men. The three women had taken another room. She didn't want to try anything with more than just one adventurer. They tended to be trouble solo, but in a group, bad things could happen.

She only had to think about what happened to poor Jerome and Jani. That last group of adventurers had done a number on her. The healer had even said there was a chance, Jani would never conceive children. That had been something Jani had really wanted to be, a mother. No, adventurers were dangerous, especially in groups.

Little did she know, or the town, that on the horizon was a group covered in blood. It wasn't their blood, rather their latest victims. They were going back to the undefended town, as their last stop turned out not to be as soft a target. They still had the gold jingling in their pockets, a souvenir from the lending house there. The Masters of Horus were on their way, looking for a place to bed down for the coming winter.


	40. Chapter 40

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XL

Val breathed in the morning air, letting the briskness wake her. Standing on the balcony, overlooking the town street, she watched as those bringing the town to life. A cart went through the town, bottles of milk lining the bed. Bakers shops were already puffing out smoke from burning fires. Their ovens making bread and pastries for the coming day. The town crier went from door to door, ringing his bell and rousing the residents.

She woke early, to watch over Leilani. The poor Drow woman had not been able to sleep with the mask on. So, Val had agreed to watch the door in the early morning. Raven had taken watch last night, leaving only a few hours where the door wasn't being actively watched. However, that was easily remedied by a little trap she had made. Anyone opening the door would have woken the whole inn with the racket made.

She mused about how this little town was very similar to where she had lived for so long. This town was smaller, but some of the same characters were here, as were in the bigger town. Of course there seemed to be less shady people, but she knew they were there. In a place like this, there was probably just one place where shady things went down. Probably needed a password, and it was probably a very well-known secret.

None of the upper crust would admit to going, but the shady part was still here somewhere. She thought about sneaking off to see it, being it had bene a long time since she'd rubbed elbows with other rogues. That was how she had met Benny, Lady Bryon. It had all been worth it though. Lord Byron had been sacked, Lady Byron too his seat and she was free. Val was very glad to be free, and not have to worry about being chased any longer.

A rap on a door across her way caught her attention. A worried, harried man was practically beating the door down. Quickly it turned form a rap, to a resounding drumming, and that beat spelled danger. Val reached for her short swords, feeling confident in their placement on her hips. Finally, someone opened the door, and the worried man stumbled in.

"That was strange," Leilani said, nearly making Val jump out of her skin. Drow, it seemed, delighted in sneaking up on people.

"How do you do that?" Val grumbled.

The Drow laughed, "I grew up with a ranger. I learned how to walk silently in boots and bare feet. What was the ruckus about?"

Val shook her head, "I don't know. But that man looked very scared. Think we should get Kirann?"

"If he doesn't already know," Leilani said. "That guy has a severe lack for sniffing out trouble."

"You can say that again," Val said as she left the window.

An hour later Kirann and Raven were dragging a half-awake barbarian through town. Dagarth was cursing a storm at being up so early. The bard ignored him, and the monk just kept walking. This caused Dagarth to be even surlier, as nobody was listening to his complaints. Then there was the disgustingly cheery tailor from the previous day, who looked fresh as a daisy.

Dagarth was just going to take the clothes, but Kirann insisted he put them on in the store. The barbarian had to admit they fit and weren't made of any soft or easily ripped fabrics. In fact they felt strong and forced out any chill. Despite himself, Dagarth was admiring the handiwork of this tailor. He would never admit to how impressed he was to the arrogant man, but maybe there was something to the man's art.

Kirann nodded as the barbarian came back out. He at least wasn't going to get them arrested for indecency any longer, and the clothing looked rugged enough to handle the road. The monk was very happy to express his pleasure at the tailor's master craft production. Though due to his Spartan speech, Raven ended up giving the tailor the gushing review he deserved.

"It was my pleasure," the tailor said. "Always nice to have my talents appreciated. I like you two, come back anytime and I'll give you a discount."

"We might just take you up on that offer," Raven chuckled. "May you always be blessed."

Their next stop was to the blacksmith, who looked bleary eyed enough to match Dagarth. Even with that, he still was quick enough to show them around the shop. Kirann had Dagarth look over the wares, and the barbarian tried out several. This mostly consisted of everyone having to duck or backing off from nearly getting hit by a swung axe. In the end Dagarth chose a two headed axe that had to be wielded in two hands.

Kirann paid, as well as getting a sling for the axe to ride when they traveled. Dagarth eyed the monk with uneasy eyes. There was a question brewing, one that he hoped he didn't like the answer to. It would wait till they were on their way back to the inn.

"What price do I pay for such benevolence?" Dagarth asked.

Kirann thought for a moment, "To pass it on. If you find one in need, aid them."

"I do not understand this statement," the barbarian said. "You have done for me services that must be repaid."

"Repay me by helping those in need of your strength," Kirann replied. "Use your gifts to make things better."

Dagarth growled, "You are a strange one. Carry no weapons or armor, travel with devils and Drow, then tell me to pay my debt to you, to another. Are all monks this infuriating?"

"Only the good ones," Raven piped in.

The barbarian cut her a cold look, but didn't say anything else. He also continued to walk with these people in silence. His mind wandered about the pretty words they said, and tried to orient them with his experience out in the world. He thought them foolish, but he also realized they had done him a great service. So, he would hold his tongue.

Inside the inn, they found the rest of the group sitting at a table. Before them was a full breakfast, including three full plates waiting on them. Dagarth didn't wait and aggressively dug into his plate. Kirann ate quickly, but with less ferocity as the barbarian. Raven enjoyed hers, savoring the taste laid before her. Whomever had done this was truly talented as a cook.

Much to the Tiefling's surprise, it was the servant girl from the previous night. She gushed over the young woman's ability. By the time the young woman's face was blushing so much, she nearly matched Raven's reddish skin tone. Kirann watched on, smiling at how far Raven had come in such a short time. Even more so when she started an impromptu performance for the gathered guests of the inn.

After three songs, the inn's door was quickly opened, and seven adventurers walked in. Six were men, with the last being a woman, and the air of the road was upon them. Not having access to a bath, they reeked to the high heavens. That lovely smell of gore and body odor wafted rapidly through the inn's dining area. That got everyone's attention, but the sight of who produced that odor left the staff terrified.

The customers took their cue from the staff and all conversation stopped. Everyone was looking at the newcomers, except for Kirann and his group. They noticed them, really noticed the smell, but went back to their food quickly. After being on the road themselves, it would take more than horrid smells to kill their appetite.

"Inn keep, we'll be taking six rooms," the obvious leader said. "Have the girl take our stuff up and stay, we'd like to show our appreciation."

A gnarled smile showed that the promise of appreciation was vastly different than the standard definition. The young woman shivered in fear and desperately tried to merge with the shadows, hoping to disappear. That just made the leader tromp over to her, and aggressively drag her out. The sickly, decaying smell of his breath, made the young woman fight hard to get away from him.

"What's the matter wench," the man growled. "Afraid of a real man. Not surprising with all the hicks and in-breds here. Don't worry, I won't be gentle, but I'll make a woman out of you."

Dagarth slammed his wooden cup onto the table, bringing all the attention back to their table. He let out a long, audible, burp. At least the young woman should know how much he loved her cooking, and nothing did that better than a loud belch. It was also a good time for a brawl. His belly was full, and there was a loudmouth deserving a punch to the face.

The blue skinned barbarian stood up, "No one should touch a woman like that, not even her husband. Now if it is a fight you want, I can give you a fight. We should probably step outside; these people don't understand the meaning of a good fight."

"Ravisher, take this fool out," the leader barked as he turned his attention back to the young thing quivering before him in fright.

His rogue silently appeared behind Dagarth and brought his dagger down. Two things didn't work out so well for him. One, Dagarth moved at the last moment. His natural barbarian instincts seemingly giving him a sixth sense about danger. Two, was a dagger pommel hitting Ravisher in the side of the head, and a naked blade pressed dangerously to his throat.

"Rogues do it from behind," Val said. "You didn't think he was alone did you?"

The Masters of Horus leader looked over, "Ravisher, she's barely heavier than a child, just throw her off."

"Idiot, he moves one inch, and she'll have his blood all over the floor," Walton stood up. "Let the girl go, or you'll be drawing back stumps."

"Zealot, show this fool the might of a fallen paladin," the leader said, still holding onto the young woman. "He has the stench of holiness on him."

"By your leave, Neagan," a once holy warrior brought his sword out.

As he did, the last man in pulled a bow off his back and knocked an arrow. Aiming over the gathered inn customers, he was choosing his target. Leilani recognized the stance, as her adopted father had used the same when he was practicing, and when he went hunting.

Anger flashed at the thought of this person using the ranger arts to harm innocents. With her anger, flames all across the inn flashed in intensity. Their flames nearly doubled and the flames went from an orange-red to a bright, almost white blue color. This gave the Masters of Horus a brief pause.

It also gave Kirann the moment he was looking for. With sudden movement, he unleashed a sun blast straight into the breastplate of the fallen paladin. Two steps later he had bounded off his table and another to untangle the young woman from the leader. Dagarth had moved forward, slamming into the evil grinning man. He wasn't used to fighting with the others yet so he did it before Kirann was done. That caused the young woman to stumble, but luckily the monk kept her from falling.

Catching her, he used her own momentum to switch places with her and send another bolt right at the evil ranger. Leilani unleashed a magic missile attack, headed for that same ranger. Walton decided that with Kirann and Dagarth on the leader, he would better serve by taking on the others. He rushed directly at the remaining Masters of Horus.

Raven launched into song as she brought her cutlass, "He drinks the whiskey drink, he drinks the vodka drink.."

The lone woman of the Masters of Horus, named Furie, reached for the spirits bound to her. Instead, she found herself launching backwards as a cutlass nearly ended her. Their fighter brought down a sword to finish off the singing Tiefling, only for him to be bowled over as Walton smashed into him.

The bard meanwhile rolled, came back up singing, "I get knocked down, but I get up again.."

Dagarth smashed his fist into the Neagan's face, but the man laughed. The leader then proceeded to knocked Dagarth around like a child taking on an adult. He moved to block, only for the other man to hit him from the side. He moved fast, faster than Dagarth had seen, well maybe except for the monk.

Neagan brought his hand up to smash again into Dagarth, only for a series of punches to take the air out of him. This was followed by a savage kick that produced an audible snap from his ribs, and sent Neagan rolling across the inn floor. Kirann followed this up with a cone of flame, thankful that the other clients had decided to get out of their way. Waves of fire washed over the Masters of Horus, and over two tables.

"It is time for you to leave!" Kirann growled, energy illuminated his hands and he let out a burst of light that blinded all in the area.

His people were used to fighting with him enough, that they knew to close their eyes. Dagarth, though, didn't and Kirann could hear the barbarian cursing up a storm. Luckily none of the other group of adventurers had closed their eyes. They were all now blinded, with their sight to return in a few minutes. However, in that few minutes the fight would be won and over.

"Necro, get us out of here," Neagan commanded.

Darkness swirled around each of the Masters of Horus, and with a loud pop, they were gone. Val stumbled, as the man she had been holding down was gone. Raven stopped singing, looking only slightly confused. She recognized the spell was a modified teleportation spell, but she'd have to check her own books for one like that.

Meanwhile, Dagarth was bloodied and bruised, looking the worst of all the Challengers. Kirann had Walton look him over, while he, Raven and Leilani put out the burning tables. He also apologized to the innkeeper for that, looking more sheepish than usual for him. At first he thought the innkeeper was still in shock, or had been hurt. That wasn't the case though.

The man grabbed Kirann in a great bear hug, "Thank you, thank you for saving her." The man began to cry on the monk's shoulder.

Raven had a feeling that this wasn't the end of this. This only became clearer as the guard finally showed up, along with a woman that appeared to be in charge. They looked over the chaos that was the inn's common room, and all eyes fell upon the Challengers. Weapons were grasped even tighter as the woman walked over to the group of adventurers.

"Are you responsible for all of this?" she asked.

Kirann answered, "There were troublemakers, they are now gone."

"Another group of adventurers were here causing trouble," Raven explained further. "When they were asked to stop, violence broke out. Everything should be under control now."

"Then I may have a job for you," the woman said. "I'm Mayor Sara Koda, and I'd like to speak to you all."


	41. Chapter 41

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XLI

Darkness surrounded the Masters of Horus, and then light replaced its opposite. This wasn't the bright purifying light of sun, or the luminous light of magic. No, this was the dim, pulsing light of long used candles. Still burning down, past the time to be replaced, and producing only the barest hints of light; the candles barely shone.

They fell hard onto the ground, air being knocked out of many, and the rogue the only one to land on his feet. Grunts turned into pained cries as the injuries suffered in battle caught up to them. The fallen paladin massive burns over his chest, while the rogue held a hand to his throat. The other rogue's blades had nicked his neck, and now blood poured freely. Neagan took a look at both, before muttering that they'd need healing.

A dark figure appeared like a wraith in the night. Neagan immediately felt his blood run cold. He wasn't one to be scared easily, but this one brought on the terror. Slight, but cloaked in dark clothing, the figure concealed great power. The fact he was here, wasn't a good sign.

"Neagan, let me guess, giant moles?" the figure sarcastically inquired. "I send you out with magical aid, and in two weeks, you return bloodied."

"We ran into some trouble," Neagan growled. "There was a powerful group of adventurers in town."

"Without my mighty assistance, that would be quite a few groups," the dark, thin man scowled. "Still mighty they must have been to hurt you all. Who are they?"

"We didn't get a name, but they seemed to be led by an unusual man. He pulsed like the sun, and fought without weapons," Neagan explained. "There was a Tiefling and a paladin with him."

"Interesting. This fighter, was he dressed in loose clothing?" the dark figure asked.

Neagan nodded, "Yes, do you know him?"

"Well you may not be as imbecilic as you appear," the figure said. "If it was Kirann Lichtus you fought, then you are very lucky to be alive."

"Do you know how to defeat him, Master Manheim?" Neagan didn't miss the inflection in the thin man's voice. There was just a hint of fear there, and maybe that was something that could be used in the future.

The thin figure turned, "I have an agent that I can bring in. Rest your worthless hides till I return. Then we'll enact our plan of retribution."

As Manheim left, Neagan began to wonder again about what he had heard. The egotistical wizard was hardly one to back down, but he wasn't above using others. Who was this agent, and what did they have to do with the glowing man back in town? More importantly, who were these people that had taken their town from them? He would find out. Nobody ever kept the upper hand from him for long.

Mayor Koda had laid out before them the mission. The Masters of Horus had become a danger to the town of Catonburrough. They had originally started as many groups had, by running down bandits and clearing goblin infestations. Within the last few months, they had changed. They had soon begun to tun on the town, with their latest atrocity being the assaults of Jerome and Jani.

The mayor wanted the Challengers to track these adventurers down, arrest them and bring them back for judgement. However, she at no way meant alive was the only recourse. The Masters of Horus were dangerous, and if they died being returned back, that was okay as well. The townspeople needed justice, needed to see justice done, but not at the expense of putting others at extreme risk.

"We will seek them out," was Kirann's response to her request.

At first the mayor was expecting more, a proclamation, long speech, but none came. Instead he gathered up his people, and left with the half ice giant barbarian. Even her captain of the guard wasn't sure what to make of this odd group. They didn't have a choice though, as there weren't enough guards to form a party. Otherwise she would have done that when they had left a month ago.

"Can we trust them, Madame Mayor?" the guard captain asked.

"We have to," she said. "Start those guard rotations though, just in case."

The Challengers took Daggarth to a local church for healing. Luckily for him, his head was harder than stone. Most of his injuries were just minor, resulting in a lot of bruising and a recommendation to take it easy for another two days. The barbarian of course had no intention of doing such a thing. A fact he made clear the next day, when he was practicing with his new axe.

Daggarth saw himself surrounded by enemies. All the better for the coming fight. He swung his axe, feeling it more as like an extension of himself. The balance was better than he originally thought, and it moved with him. He had almost picked up the massive two-handed sword at the shop, but was glad he had gone with this weapon.

Some of the merchants had let him use some old, decrepit wooden boxes for this. They were worthless, and barely keeping form, but they worked for what he needed. His axe head pulverized one to bits, and he continued the movement to take out another one quickly. Soon he was surrounded by the obliterated remains, and wood chips were scattered around his training area.

"That's going to take some time to clean up," Kirann said, nearly making Daggarth jump out of his skin.

"Cleaning is for the weak," the barbarian growled.

The monk smiled, "Weak, strong, you make the mess, you clean it up." With that he handed the blue skinned barbarian a broom. "The merchants allowed you to train kindly. Don't repay with insolence."

"You are quite annoying," Daggarth growled.

Kirann nodded, "I've been told before."

The monk remained though, holding out the broom till the barbarian took it. Under his breath Daggarth grumbled out the humiliation of doing a weakling's work. A small picture formed of the monk having to fight him without his tricks, and the barbarian found it a funny image. What trickery he was thinking of, even he didn't know. Anyone that fought unarmed and defeated armored opponents, must be cheating. That was just the way things were, at least his experience.

Leilani was sitting outside the town limits, the weave of magic flowing around her. Beside her with a book open, was Raven, going over different forms of magic teleportation. The bard's attention was on each diagram of the different effects of teleportation. She hoped there would be something that would help Leilani track the other party. It was for naught though, as the connection had to be made during the event.

That didn't stop the Drow sorceress from trying, following the strands of magic. Each use of magic made a distinct disturbance, and she hoped there was still enough to follow. Sadly, there was not, as she lost the disturbance within the weave. All she could do was pound her fist into the ground with frustration. If they had a wizard better learned in such things, then they might have been able to track their quarry. As it was, her talents lay in other areas.

"We'll find them," Raven said gently, her gaze never leaver her book.

Leilani made a face before asking, "How do you do that?"

"We travel with a monk, learning how to use all your senses comes with the territory," Raven said. "Quit making those faces, your face will stick that way."

The sorceress laughed, "Are you sure you don't have a magic eye roaming around?"

"Nope, come one, let's see what else we can determine," Raven closed the book and put it back into her pack. "Wish we still had Lorinda with us, she could at least tell us which way the tracks came from."

Leilani looked at the road leading into town, the same road the Masters of Horus had come into town. There was quite a bit of traffic, but she was able to make out the heavier footfalls of the fallen paladin in the other party. She waved for Raven to follow her, she needed someone to watch her back while she did this. The ranger who raised her would have no problem, and probably could track everyone in the party. She, however, was just barely able to follow the heavily armored man.

"It goes down this way, and stops right here," Leilani said. "I can't track it further, but this pathway is the one they took. Wish I could be more help."

Raven nodded, "It is a start, and more than we had this morning. Let's get back to the others and we can decide the next course of action. Good job."

Grand Master Ming-Wa Fa looked over the people of Suns Edge Monastery. The handoff from the old grand master to her had been seamless, but she still felt a little overwhelmed. It was natural of anyone in her position, and in a few months she'd feel more at ease in her new position. Till then, she just had to grow into the position.

It was the end of evening exercises, and she was watching the students finishing up. It was calming to see such a sight, as it was normal. Her hot tea she sipped, letting the taste and fragrance wash over her senses. An end to another day, and she was going to enjoy the feeling of everything going according to plan. Only because she knew that eventually something would come up, some emergency or problem that would need to be fixed. She didn't expect it to be so sudden though.

With a loud rumble, circular clouds materialized twisting about a sudden formed funnel. Starting from the ground, and reaching to the sky above, the twisting air quickly became foreboding. Students were thrown about, their teachers rushing to aid them, and Ming-Wa moved. She found herself flung back, smashing hard onto the floor. Immediately she was back up, but not in enough time.

Nine figures materialized out of the swirling twister. One, wearing the long robes of a wizard, let loose a spell. A gigantic fireball exploded in the middle of the recovering students. A thunderous blast deafened everyone nearby, and bodies flew into the air. Some were instantly burnt to a crisp, others were blown apart, while a few landed feet away with massive burns across their bodies.

Before the monks could retaliate, two fell from arrows impaling into their chests. Another monk managed to get close, but was cleaved down the middle by a barbaric slash. Another was taken out from behind, two daggers stabbed into the woman's kidneys. A man running to her aid crashed into a wall of flame. As he flailed around in overwhelming pain, another of the figures opened his chest.

By this time, Ming-Wa had already thrown a sunbeam, that knocked one of the attackers back. Only by luck did she leap right at the same moment the wizard's next fireball stuck next to her. So instead of dying a fast, but painful death, she was thrown through the air and landed hard many yards away. It hurt to breath, but she still pushed to get back up. Instead her body fell back to the ground.

Other trainers and monks came running. Some were already using their abilities. One more fell to an arrow, while two others held off a warrior and a barbarian. The attacking rogue looked for his next victim, and found it in a young female student. He was sure they'd have enough time for him to have a little fun. It wouldn't take long, and she'd be dead by the time he was done. The others had this, and he was due a little fun with such a pretty thing.

Ravisher landed behind her and stabbed to incapacitate, only to find his daggers meet nothing but air. Instead she turned and landed a blow that sent him to a knee. He responded with a backhand blow, sending her to the ground. She continued into a roll, coming up into a crouched stance. Blood trickled down her lip, her eyes were unfocused, but she wasn't down.

The evil rogue smiled, he liked a little challenge. They always fell in the end, and sometimes the best were the ones where they fought back a little. She would still give him what he needed, her screams. Twirling his daggers, he went after her. His aim was perfect, and he was sure she wouldn't react in time. Her still focusing eyes meant that she hadn't regained her senses enough to dodge him.

She surprised him, but moving at the last moment. However, she was looking in the wrong direction, so it only bought her a moment. Ravisher could deal with that, then she'd find out how he got his name. He started forward, only for something to send him rolling to the left. Up he jumped, living in the slums of Luskan had given him the instinct to always get back to his feet. His attacker was a young whelp, no more than thirteen or fourteen, about the same age as the girl.

Without thinking, Ravisher threw one of his small daggers. The deadly missile hit the young man, and he went down with a loud thud, screaming. The rogue turned back to the girl, only to find a stone coming right at him. Ravisher jumped out of the way, with another coming at him. He threw another dagger, and this one took the girl's slingshot out of her hands.

Ming-Wa pulled her chi around her, seeing the mistake the invaders had made. The casters were still centered, they hadn't spread out like the melee fighters had. Taking them out, would give her people a better chance to fight back. Even now as she pulled the energy in, her people were having to dodge magic missiles, fireballs, and whatever that shaman was throwing. It was time to even the odds, and she let her energy form a Searing Sunburst.

Manheim managed a magical shield just as the explosive, fiery energy exploded. As a result, everyone under it was forced to their knees and broiling heat nearly killed them. The wizard reinforced his shielding spell, and not a moment too soon. Another blast wave hit them, and the Dwarf necromancer succumbed to the heat. Furie advised he wasn't dead, but he'd be unable to fight any longer.

That was all Manheim needed to know. They had completed their objective, this would get the monk's attention. Kirann would know that they could hit anyone he cared about, and knowing the Aasimar, he'd come running to protect everyone. Worse, they could lead him on a merry chase, exhausting him before breaking him.

That was the key, Manheim wanted Kirann broken, driven before him and to hear the lamentation of his enemy. Then again, he was okay with just killing the monk. Celestial touched tended to have the Gods' luck on their side, and he wasn't going to take that risk. If anything, Manheim could be practical.

"Tell Kirann Lichtus that the Masters of Horus will destroy all he loves!" Manheim screamed to the collected people of the monastery. "Tell him we'll be seeing him soon!"

With that, the wizard cast a spell and everyone disappeared into tiny dark tornadoes. The surviving members of the monastery were left in shock, before Ming-Wa started them moving again. There were many wounded, too many dead, and some that would soon be dead. They needed healing magics, as their own chi healers would be overwhelmed.

Grand Master Fa called for the visiting priest to come, meanwhile sending runners to the druid circle. She went to aid the healers, ending up helping to triage the wounded. One particular student, burned so badly to be unrecognizable, died in her arms. She held back her tears, for there were more in need of her help. Another two died in her arms before more help came, and a burning rage was building in the center of her chest.

"Lorinda!" called a druid, desperately trying to keep up with the stubborn adventurer. "The healers said you need to rest! You'll be no use to those people if you fall over dead."

"I'm fine!" the other druid yelled back. "I'm not a porcelain doll, and I'm tired of sitting on my ass. That's Kirann's monastery!"

The druid pursuing her was huffing, "They said you were stubborn, and here I thought they were kidding."

Lorinda's reply, as well as any further argument from the other druid died as they saw the devastation. Bodies were thrown about, most dead, but the horrid ones were those still moving. People so far gone they should be dead, but not realizing they are just moments away from leaving this world. They still grasped, gasped and struggled to draw in breath. Their flesh fell away from bone, hitting the ground like melted wax.

The other druid fell to the ground, his eyes pouring a river of tears and his mouth producing a mournful wail. Lorinda was numb, this sight would live in her nightmares for the rest of her days. In that moment, she was just numb. Despite this she rushed forward like a woman possessed. To each person she went, looking, hoping and hating herself for the relief. Kirann wasn't among the victims.

"Lorinda!" a wizened voice called out. "Your healing magic we could use."

The druid looked in the direction to find Master Ming-Wa Fa, and she felt even more relief. That was till she saw the woman's eyes. There was pain and rage there, but more than that was shame. Lorinda could guess that she felt shame at not saving more, but even a master like Ming-Wa could only do so much. However, together they might be able to save more.

Throughout the night, druids from the nearby circle and the monastery's own healers, worked their skills. They saved more than they lost, but the losses were many. The Masters of Horus had decimated their target, and many that were saved would be scarred for life. Some had lost limbs, others had lost their eyes, or had been so burned to never live a full life free of pain. Deformed, mangled, some of them would never be the same; those were the ones Lorinda couldn't look at.

Her emotional dam was ready to burst. Her numbness gone, the Elf Druid could only alternate between rage and sorrow. So much that she didn't notice the faint feeling till she was plummeting to the ground. Luckily for her, Grand Master Ming-Wa caught her. Stubborn as she was though, she wouldn't take up a perfectly good bed, that could be used for one of the wounded. Instead, the grand master had her taken to Kirann's old quarters. There she fell into a deep slumber, and the nightmares began. Burned broken bodies all coming to her, begging her to make them better, to make them whole. Lorinda didn't sleep well for many nights after that.


	42. Chapter 42

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XLII

Kirann was uneasy, Raven could tell by the way he was acting. He seemed distracted, like something was on his mind. Conversations were even more succinct than usual, some barley more than two words. When asked, he couldn't explain it, just that something felt off. Despite this, he still held his temper with Daggarth, even when the barbarian was pushing those limits.

There was the issue at a local tavern where the Half Ice Giant barbarian broke several glasses of mead. In his culture it was a sign of respect, the tavernkeeper wasn't too happy about that. Kirann interceded, explained and also paid for the broken glasses. He then tried, patiently to explain to Daggarth why the tavernkeeper was upset. From the barbarian's noncommittal huff, this was likely to come up again.

Raven smiled, glad that the monk had the patience of a saint. If she were in her shoes, she might find it hard to keep such a straight tone. Which made her feel even worse, as he was dealing with something she didn't understand yet. She wondered how long till cracks started to form, and if she would be able to help him. He ended up helping everyone, but rarely asked for help for himself. So, she would make sure he had it when needed.

Retreating into his mansion, Kirann stepped inside. Val was watching over the bag that produced the doorway to the dimension that held it. More grounds had been added around the mansion. Leisure areas, a training area for the monk arts and wide open field for horse riding. Inside the mansion, sublevels had been added in for potion making, alchemy and an obstacle course for Val.

The monk though headed straight for a room just off of his. Inside were candle exuding a dim soothing light. Off to the right was a miniature waterfall that trickled over tiny rocks. The color was all earth tones and light airy textures. Jeeves was very pleased with himself, when he had unveiled the meditation room to Kirann.

He sat cross legged on the mat in the center of the room. Taking a deep breath, he released everything on his mind. Gone were the responsibilities he had taken up, they would be dealt with when they could. Gone were the loose thoughts and doubts, they would only hinder him. Gone were his ties to any city, country or plane, he just was. He kept going till the only thing left was his breathing in and out. It was just him.

Kirann felt himself lifting up, past the room he was in. Even further he climbed, past the dimensional plane he was on. Following a light, a bright, warm and welcoming light that filled him. Past worlds he went till he found the center, where the light came from. Stars abounded around him, each one with tiny worlds circling them, and all pulsed with life. This life came from each world as bright ki, returning to the center of it all, the source of the light.

The light pulsed as it both send and received the luminous waves. Like breathing, the pulses were periodic and organic in frequency. Sometimes as if sleeping, and other times pulsing as if awake. He watched with wonder, and using his hand, touched out to the light. It washed over him like water, and with it came a deep, unconditional warmth. Raising hairs on him as the light infused his body.

He hadn't been this far ever, and in the distance he heard two distinct voices calling him. One was his old master, and she sounded stressed. The other was Raven, and from her tone of voice, she was worried. He started to return to his body, pulling himself back in with the people who grounded him. His friends and family needed him, and he would answer their call.

As he did, Master Ming-Wa Fa called out again, "Kirann, beware the trap!"

Kirann opened his eyes, just in time to see Raven barge into his meditation room embarrassed. She stopped short, sighed and then spoke to him. Even before she spoke, he knew what she was about to say was bad. If he had known how bad, he might have asked for a few more moments of peace.

"Wizard Robertson just contacted us," Raven said solemnly. "He said there was an attack on your monastery."

Kirann stood up and the force of what he heard hit him, "My old master just told me to beware the trap." Taking a deep breath, "Did his message say anything else?"

"Yes, the survivors say it was the Masters of Horus," she said.

He nodded, "Then we hunt. Have everyone ready to go by dawn."

"We've already got the wagon loaded up," Raven smiled. "We're ready to go now."

Making good time through the night, and blessed by a vibrant full moon that lit the road, the Challengers raced. Whether a helpful deity or good condition the horses were kept in, they made the trip in record time. Just off in the distance they saw the smoke from the dying fires around the monastery. Soon it was in sight and the carnage hit every one of the Challengers like a brick wall.

Massive pyres had been built to burn the dead. Unlike some other cultures, most monks welcomed a cremation ceremony. It symbolized their spirit being set from their mortal body. Those few that retained their people's belief in funerary rites, would be prepared according to those wishes. At least as much as they could be, and if they couldn't, their peoples would be contacted. As it was, only a few held such views, so most were in the funerary pyres.

Laid side by side, brothers and sisters in the arts together. They had fought as an order, and they would be honored as much. Another level was built over the first, with more dead respectfully laid out. This continued up the pyre till about four or five levels, where they started another pyre. Nobody was arranged like kindling, but rather respected.

In the center, eyes watered from finally letting out all her pent-up emotions, was Grand Master Fa. She directed her grim task with poise, even as she hated having to do it. To help transition between the living and the dead was a noble duty. To herald so many cut down so early in life, was a travesty. These people had given their all, this was the least she could do for them.

Kirann walked up to her, solemn in what he was seeing. She bowed slightly to him, but he gave her a quick hug. She smiled, before straightening back up into her Grand Master poise. The others still needed her to lead, even if it was nice to relax for just a moment.

With the pyres made, and the dead placed, it was time. She moved and lit each pyre. The fires raged upward, consuming the wood used in their construction and the bodies of the fallen. Grand Master Fa sang a prayer to them, wishing them peace on the next cycle and rewards for their good deeds in this life.

Those in attendance stood almost silent, honoring those who were not there with them. Some cried, others held on stoically, while many joined in with the Grand Master's prayer. All were moved, and even Daggarth found himself saying a prayer in his people's custom.

Leilani could only think of her adoptive father. She found a comforting arm as Raven pulled her close. Val joined them, resting her head on Leilani. Walton was kneeling, his sword planted into the ground. He called to Tyr to help shepherd the fallen and see them judged appropriately.

The pyres burned the rest of the day and into the night. They would smolder out and the ashes spread by the winds. While this happened, Grand Master Fa met with Kirann and told him about the attack. The message that was left was specific and she was curious what he knew of this group. He told her what he could, but beyond what he had been told, he knew little else. Why they had reacted to him going after them like this, didn't make sense yet. That was when she told him about the wizard that had fought with them.

"That sounds like Manheim," Kirann growled. "He betrayed us at the Battle of Altamar."

Grand Master Fa said, "Find him you will. Help you fight him. In his arrogance powerful enemies he made."

"I don't know where they might be," Kirann explained. "It may be beyond these lands."

"Matters not, our aid you will have," she repeated. "Ends of Faerun to the Heavens, we will come."

Lorinda meanwhile waited for Kirann to come out, and immediately embraced the monk. Her worry for him spilled over. He was special, because he was one of her oldest friends. The sight of all those broken bodies reminded her that death was close by, especially in the world he lived. Adventurers regularly faced down the Grim Reaper, sometimes even losing. Being kept at the druid circle had kept her from joining him, keeping him safe. To be fair, kept her from keeping the others safe too. She had grown attached to them as well, and she was forced to stay away.

That night though, things became normal if just for that one night. Invited back to where the Challengers were quartered, they were a team once more. Over food and drink, tales were told and exchanged. It wasn't so much a celebration, as it was a coming back together. A family reunited, if just for one night.

In Wyvern's Rest the guard were patrolling the town at night. With the Orcs stopped at Altamar, they were relaxed. Though still looking for trouble, none expected to find any. One stopped to pick up a fallen sign, knocked off by someone rushing home. The guard put it against the door, so that the owner could put it back up in the morning.

Wind picked up immediately, and the guard looked up just in time to see a twister like portal open up right above. The next moment a deep, horrible pain ended the guard's life. A savage and hysterical laughter were the last things heard as the guard slipped into death's embrace.

A call immediately went up around the town as more guards fell, and fire lit up the sky. Fireballs rained down from the sky, lightning bolts lit up the horizon and screams echoed across whole town. Blood poured through the streets as more fell to the Masters of Horus, while horrid music played by a dark infused bard.

Resting guards were roused groggily and joined those on shift to fight against these invaders. At first more and more fell, as they were disorganized. However, once they formed up and became organized behind their commanders, the guards pushed back. Through the fear spreading due to the depressing and terrifying music of the bard, they went out into the dark. Fighting to protect those in their charge, the guards went forward.

By that time the Masters of Horus had disappeared again, vanishing in the tornado like portal. The toll of their carnage would be counted for days afterwards. Buildings burned to the ground, the deaths of citizens and the guard made the carnage at the Sun's Edge Monastery seem small. However, what they didn't know, was this was just the beginning.

The guard captain brought the mayor of Wyvern's Rest a note left by the attackers. The mayor looked it over, and had to read it over again, just to be sure. The mayor sighed, and wrote down a missive, handing it back to the guard captain.

"Send this to Altamar, get a runner out immediately," the mayor said. "It seems the Challengers are being called out by these Masters of Horus. We seem to be the bait, or the message."

"They are going to regret doing that," the guard captain replied. "I'll send Jenkins, she's our best runner."

"I want these people brought back to hang for their crimes!" the mayor said.

While Wyvern's Rest took stock of the carnage, Tyranfal's citizens woke to a swirling tornado depositing death as the Masters of Horus leapt out of the portal. The city burned, and that smoke was seen by the inhabitants of the nearby druid circle and monastery nearby. It was also seen by the Challengers, and soon they were on the road rushing to aid the city. By that time the Masters of Horus were gone again. Another note left for the people to find, and another evil act perpetrated. The stakes were being raised, and it looked to get worse soon.


	43. Chapter 43

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XLIII

The horses were rested and fed, continuing to lead the Challengers away from the monastery. Progress was quick, and the sun was out in a cloudless sky. A beautiful day that would have normally had them enjoying, instead finding them furiously rushing back. Again the Masters of Horus had struck.

A cool breeze wafted around them, curling its cool fingers, a reminder of coming autumn. It wasn't cool enough for them to switch over to thicker cloaks and clothing, but the promise was there. Soon it would be cold about the land, snow would blanket the fields and the days would get shorter as well. The fertility of spring and summer would give way to the barrenness of winter.

It would be a bad time to be on the road, suicidal if they were closer to the Spine of the World. That massive mountain range northward, separated the area known as Icewind Dale from the rest of Faerun. During the winter months the pass there became not only impassable, but full of death. That would be one place the Masters of Horus could hide, that would make the Challengers pause.

The scene that had met them at Tyranfal was one of chaos and destruction. The Masters of Horus had hit the softest part of the city, right in the merchant district. Their quick attack had the desired effect. Casualties had been massive, and many merchants had been on their way out of the city afterwards. Their carts loaded up with their wares, the merchants were stopped by the Tyranfal guards.

Thankfully the guard captain was able to convince the merchants to stay, even if it was a bit more forcible than anyone would have liked. There wasn't anything that the Challengers could do when they got there, but they stayed long enough for the note to be delivered. That sent them heading back to Altamar.

Val could cut the tension with one of her daggers. Kirann was quiet, and Raven was mindlessly strumming. Daggarth meanwhile was sharpening his axe, not that he needed to, the thing was razor sharp already. It kept him busy, and he needed to feel busy. An outsider among these people, he felt even more so now. It wasn't like with the others, they had a camaraderie that he hadn't gained yet.

They made it back to Altamar just in time for the next attack. This time though, the carnage was limited. Manheim was wary of a full out assault, as Wizard Robertson frightened him. The other man had many years of skill on him, and he wasn't sure how much the comfort of being a court wizard had weakened one. If the Battle of Altamar was any indication, the wizard was still very formidable. Manheim might have been sure that he was the superior caster, but he really didn't want to test that out in open combat. At least not yet, not till he could assure his victory.

Once again they struck at the merchant areas, but found soldiers and guards waiting on them. Manheim slung out a fireball, but felt his spell countered, the ball of fire evaporating like mist. He has just a few milliseconds before a magic missile nearly took his head. He dodged just enough to where the missile skittered across his mage armor. Pulling a wand from his belt, he shot out its spell.

He had picked the wrong one, thinking it to be the magic missile wand, but instead was a wand of fog. Immediately the area was blanketed in a pea soup fog, that made it impossible for anyone to see more than three inches in front of them. However, Manheim opponent didn't seem to have any trouble with that. A magical blast sent Manheim rolling across the ground. A burning sensation around his chest let him know the mage armor had failed. Another hit like that and he'd be dead.

He reached for his spell book, but couldn't concentrate to cast a spell. Battle was all around, and thanks to the fog, sounded too chaotic to understand. A great wind came, flushing the fog away. It was then that Manheim caught sight of his opponent. Wizard Bruce Robertson, eyes ablaze with arcane energies, cast another spell. This one almost killed Manheim again, but he was able to cast a disintegration spell as he dodged.

The former Challenger could only gape as the disintegration spell bounced off Wizard Robertson's shield. The spell harmlessly hit the ground, where it turned the dirt into an oozing puddle of putrid nothingness. Even worse was the incorporeal hand that shot out of the ground, grabbing Manheim tightly in a death grip.

"Manheim, I know it's you!" Bruce Robertson cried out. "You were welcomed as a friend, now you attack us! Lord Wallace will judge you. Call off your men before they are slaughtered."

Manheim couldn't help but laugh, "You should be ruling, we are the real power behind these imbeciles. Do you think your lord would even welcome you, if not for your talents? These plebeians are beneath us, and they should bow down before their betters."

Wizard Robertson nearly didn't see the shadow leap from behind him. Quickly he jumped away, just as a dagger nearly ended his life. The Bigby's Hand spell let the other wizard go as a result, and chaos resumed. Manheim began casting dangerous spells one after another, each hitting the Altamaran forces hard. Bruce cast his own spell against the rogue trying to eviscerate him, but soon had to deal with a shaman bearing down on him.

The court wizard of Altamar had a spell on his lips when a bright flash of light drew everyone's attention. The attackers screamed, clawing at their eyes, and even Wizard Robertson had an afterimage burned into his own. What an image it was though, a flying man on golden light dragon wings. Without knowing it, a smile crossed the wizard's face, just as terror painted the attackers.

Kirann led, slamming a foot into Neagan's Half-Orc chest. The barbarian fell hard to the ground hard, ragged breaths bringing him great pain. He looked up, the moments appearing to draw out as Kirann brought an axe kick up. If it hadn't been for Poacher, Neagan's brother, the barbarian would have been captured. Instead the monk's attention was diverted just enough by an incoming arrow, for his downward kick to miss. Neagan crawled away, as his brother sent two more arrows out. Kirann caught both and sent them back to their owner, with extreme prejudice.

The Half-Orc ranger, Poacher, yowled in pain as his two arrows embedded themselves. One in the shoulder, the other in his guts, and the last one was going to be deadly if not treated. With incredulity he looked at the monk with glowing wings, fear spread throughout his body. His bow dropped, as pain tore at his guts. He was hurt bad, and he knew it. Looking for his brother, he saw Neagan the barbarian crawling on all fours.

Raven played her warsong, exchanging strums on her guitar with slices from her cutlass. Leilani cast her sorcerous magic with controlled destructiveness, already her ebon skin showing golden scales. Daggarth roared, slamming his axe into the magical shield of the Dwarf necromancer. Val kept Ripper busy, constantly dodging in and out of combat with him. Walton was homed in on Zealot, a paladin of good against the paladin of an evil god, in reality a fallen paladin.

Then came the Pied Piper, fanatically heading straight for Kirann. The evil bard wanted blood to repay his destroyed hands to this self-righteous man. His blade in hand, he could see his hated antagonist's back. Unlike the chivalric paladins, he had no qualms about attacking someone from behind. He would get his revenge, for someone as strong as this monk, he wouldn't die quickly. Pied Piper would savor his victory, afterwards carving his hated enemy up.

To his surprise the monk moved, with Kirann sending a bolt of sun straight into him. Pied Piper howled in pain, as some of that energy penetrated his mage armor. He was up though, and struck out with his sword. Again the monk moved, as if sensing his attack, and the sword stabs nothing but air. This didn't stop the Pied Piper, as he struck again and again. Each time frustratingly the monk repaid him with more and more damage. Finally, the Pied Piper fell to the ground, spitting blood out of a half-ruined mouth.

Manheim saw the Masters of Horus being overwhelmed and the Pied Piper decimated by Kirann. He knew it was time to leave, and he finally had his concentration back, and strength, to cast the teleport spell. Practically screaming the words, the knowledge that this was make or break, never left his mind. Only the coolness of their base let him know he had succeeded.

Across the battlefield the Masters of Horus disappeared into puffs of smoke, leaving the Altamaran forces and the Challengers. They took stock of their losses, while Bruce Robertson cast locating spell after locating spell, all failed. The battle had gone in their favor, but there were still casualties. Yet, the warning had come just in time. That tired, nearly dead Wyvern's Rest soldier now rested in the Temple of Tyr.

Daggarth was wounded, taken to one of the temples in the city. The rest of the Challengers were invited to dinner at the lord's palace. Leilani donned her magical mask again, not wanting to anyone to see her real face. Raven stayed close to Kirann, as Val stayed close to the sorceress. Walton marched in as only a paladin could, slowly starting to feel more comfortable in his second chance.

Lord Wallace stopped Leilani, "Leilani the Golden, do not hide your true self. You are a hero here in Altamar, and I declare for all to hear, welcome as a friend to all."

"Your grace, I do no want to.." Leilani tried to say but Lord Wallace interrupted her.

"You are a hero here, let them see you or who you really are. This is the least we can do for you all," Lord Wallace explained. "None are more surprised than I. If someone had told me that I'd be welcoming a Drow into my city, I would have thought them daft. Yet, here you are and proven to be an invaluable friend. You and all the Challengers."

"You..you…honor me," she managed to eek out. Then slowly she pulled the mask off. Brown long hair replaced with silver white, tan skin replaced with ebon. She opened her eyes, fearing what she would see, but surprised with the thunderous applause around the dining room. There were those who were only doing it because it was proper, but most were doing it whole heartedly.

Despite herself, she brought a hand up to her face. She didn't want them to see the watery eyes, or the tears forming. Thankfully Val and Raven came to her rescue, guiding her to where she was seated. It didn't escape Leilani that Raven wasn't wearing a hood or any covering to hide her Tiefling features. Her only weapon was the guitar sitting next to her chair, something Leilani didn't miss. Things had changed so much, since they had originally coming to Altamar.

The dinner lasted for a while, about three hours by Kirann's reckoning. The food was good, but he was anxious. The Masters of Horus had escaped, bloodied but not defeated. They had caused massive havoc, in their raids. More pain and suffering than should be acceptable, all because they thought power gave them the right. Might for might's sake, instead of used for the good of all. That, however, was an exercise in philosophy.

Good and Evil, by large as they were used by most mortals was a matter of point of view. However, destruction and suffering just because you can, that was pure Evil. He could not stand by while that happened, so he would challenge it. Win or lose, he and his friends would push back, and bring justice to those who were unjust. He just hoped not to lose any, for he had gotten quite fond of them. They were like family now, a family of different people come together. They were better together, and had created something that would survive any adventure.

Kirann mused this by a window overlooking the city. He heard the wizard, Bruce Robertson, come up to him. Felt the man's ki, something that was increasingly becoming easier to do. He could see the man's apprehension, and guessed what he had to tell. It was better if Wizard Robertson told him, instead of Kirann guessing. There were somethings you just had to say, in order to grow.

"I can't find where they went," the wizard said. His voice was full, but a hint of regret was there. "The spell Manheim used was very technical. I'm going to try another scrying spell, but I don't hold out much hope."

Kirann cleared his throat, "How many have you tried?"

"At least thirty," the wizard laughed. "At this point I'd wager he is mixing arcane and planar magic. That is the only way I could see how well he disappeared."

Kirann smiled, "Then you have done everything you can. We'll continue to search. All is well."

"You are a good man, Kirann," Bruce Robertson said. "I'll send you whatever I can find. Is there anything else I can help you out with?"

Kirann's response was, "Whatever you can is appreciated. We'll head out tomorrow."

"Good luck then," Bruce couldn't help but grin. "Should I feel bad for Manheim and those idiots?"

"Indeed," Kirann replied.


	44. Chapter 44

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XLIV

Neagan growled menacingly as he watched his brother slowly die. A victim of his own tactics, Poacher was dealing with a nasty infection from his dirty arrows. Many moons ago he had found a putrid recipe to apply to the heads of his arrows. Anyone struck with those deadly projectiles, if not dead immediately, would develop an incurable disease. The disease would slowly eat away at a body, turning a strong, vibrant fighter, into a weak and soon to be dead body.

Perspiring profusely, Poacher was in-between worlds, of dream and reality, as well as life and death. In those fevered dreams, the Half-Orc screamed in pain. He struggled, as Neagan tried to hold him down. His feverish skin burning his brother's hands. One slip and Neagan was given a solid fist to the face, with Poacher unaware of the violence he was doing upon his family.

Furie sat off to the side, rolling rune etched bones over and over again. She was reading them, seeing what fate held. Each roll came up the same way, death. She looked up, with a stare that didn't belie fascination or worry in her eyes. Instead, her gaze roamed over the two brothers.

Finally, Poacher settled down, but he was still burning up. Neagan covered his brother with a blanket, and then went looking for Necro or Manheim. Meanwhile Ravisher was sizing up the ranger's gear. There were a couple of nice looking knives, and the bow would fetch a nice price from his fence.

"Your brother's fate is his own," Manheim exclaimed as he and Neagan came back into the room. "I am a wizard, not a healer, you idiot!"

"There are magics that can heal him! You're supposed to be a master of those," Neagan shot back.

A quick spell pulled Neagan up into the air immobilized, "That is none of my concern. If you wish to join your brother in a slow death, continue. Now leave me be, or is there some other insignificant item that you'd like to allay me with?" With Neagan silenced by the same spell, there was no reply. "Good, now get your band ready, we begin strikes again soon."

Waiving his hand, Manheim released the Half-Orc barbarian. Neagan slammed hard to the floor. He rose with a pained grimace, and a silent promise to tear the wizard limb from limb. Blood spilled out over his split lip, and he spat a phlegmy ball out. Necro took that moment to intercede, before the barbarian did anything they'd regret.

"Your brother can be saved, if you are willing," Necro the necromancer slyly said in punctuated syllables.

Neagan's eyes locked onto the death wizard, "What do you know?"

"Bring these items to the basement and save your brother you will," Necro said.

Neagan took the list from the Dwarf's hand, looking it over. By the time he looked back up, Necro was gone. Only Ravisher moved more silently than the Dwarf necromancer did, and that didn't make him feel any better. At least the items would be easy to find; they had all the items in their base.

Later that night, Poacher hung by a thread. The Masters of Horus carried Poacher's nearly dead body to the subbasement. There standing behind a cold stone slab, dressed in long black robes, was Necro. The gathered materials Neagan had gathered, sitting behind the Dwarf, waiting.

Setting the Half-Orc ranger down, the others moved away. Necro moved forward, a dagger appearing from the folds of the long robes. Quickly the necromancer slit Poacher's chest, letting hot blood flow out. Poacher let out a stifle of a scream, even as Necro started to chant. The ritual had started, and for the next few hours the Dwarf would be busy.

The others watched as magical energies and necromantic magics intermixed. Dinghy dark colors swirled about, and a torrent of smells ranging from decomposing to rank swampy smells. Whispered comments assaulted the Masters of Horus, each one hearing their worst fear.

Necro had warned them not to leave after he began though, so each one stayed put. Even so, the whispered voices became louder and more insidious. Furie started casting protection rituals just to keep the voices at bay, and inadvertently protected the others from them. Protected as they were, it still didn't stop the voices from seeping into their subconscious.

An hour in, the materials started to glow, and Necro's eyes blazed with hellfire. His chanting continuing, the Dwarf began to float in the air. Putrid magic settled around him like an ever dying cloud of silence. Beneath the cloud insects of all shape and sizes congregated into massive mounds of dead bugs.

By the morning the work was done, and Poacher opened his "eyes" to see the coming sunrise. The world seemed dimmer and darker than he remembered. He sat up and things felt stiff, wrong, he felt different. His legs felt leaden as he moved about the subbasement. His arms felt wrong, heavier, and he had trouble finding his balance.

"It may take a while for you to adjust," Necro explained. "The others were allowed to leave just moments ago."

"What did you do to me?" Poacher said, his voice more like gravels scraping together now.

Necro moved off, fingering a ring on his right hand, "What your brother asked, saved you. Your body was too sick to save, but your spirit, now that was salvageable."

Poacher lunged and fell against the stone floor hard. He tried to reach his feet again, only to ungainly faceplant again. The necromancer Dwarf laughed, angering Poacher. He slammed a fist into the ground, and felt no pain. Looking at his hand, he saw small metal pieces. Was he wearing gloves?

"Your new body is superior in every way," Necro advised. "Metal makes up your bones, crystal is mixed with clay for your armor. You are a golem, my finest work if I say so myself."

Poacher roared, "You made me a monster!"

"Oh no, you were already a monster. Did you forget about the Orc that porked your mother?" Necro shot back. "One as ugly as you, thought that would have been evident. My changes have made you better."

Poacher jumped up and rushed the Dwarf. Only as he started to grab for the smaller humanoid, his body stopped, and he couldn't control it any longer. Necro smiled and held up his right hand, complete with the ring he was messing with. Moving off the side, Necro flicked the ring and Poacher continued with his lunge. He jumped up again, but one wave of Necro's hand stopped Poacher.

"You can not harm me," he explained. "I'm not foolish enough to make an unkillable golem, and not put in a contingency."

"I hate you," Poacher growled, with nothing in that statement showing anything other than the truth. If he could, Necro would die a thousand deaths more horrid than any could imagine. As it was, the golem ranger stomped out, internally screaming.

Manheim came out of his chambers, just in time to see the newly made golem Poacher come up. He was curious and also a little impressed. He had written the ranger off, knowing that the disease had spread too far to be healed. Barring divine intervention, Poacher should have died.

Necro obviously was holding back, having the power to transfer souls from bodies to constructs. Remaking Poacher didn't upset Manheim, for the ranger was a good resource. Instead Manheim was aggravated that the necromancer had hidden that talent from him. Nobody hid anything from him, that he might later need. He'd make a mental note, as it wasn't prudent to get rid of Necro just yet.

Disregarding the tumultuous scene below, Manheim went looking for the Pied Piper. He did summon an invisible watcher to keep him informed of what the Masters of Horus were up to. They still needed him, but knowing their breaking points, divisions, would help him keep control. The bard should be healed by now, and his lore knowledge was what Manheim needed.

The wizard was always looking for new spells and rituals. As powerful as the Pied Piper was, he had two things that Manheim still wanted to exploit. There was the Aasimar blood that would give Manheim greater power, and he intended to leech that power away. The second was the powerful being that the bard served. Any other lore he drew out from the Fallen Aasimar was just a bonus.

He entered the Pied Piper's room, finding the clerics he called done with their healing. None of the scars had been removed, but all the recent injuries were fully healed. The bard would be upset that he still wouldn't play with the same skill as he had in the past, but that wasn't Manheim's concern. At least he would still be able to use the bard, at least till he was of no further use.

"I see you are well," Manheim said gently. "I trust the healing wasn't too painful. The priests of dark gods aren't known for their gentle touch."

"I want that monk's head!" the Pied Piper growled. "For all the pain I have suffered, I will make him forever suffer."

Manheim smiled, "Then I take it you'll be staying with us for a while longer?"

"As long as he is mine, I will follow you for a while longer," the Pied Piper nodded.

Manheim could see the hate in the bard's eyes, "Of course, vengeance will be yours. Follow me, we have plans to make."


	45. Chapter 45

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XLV

The following days the Challengers moved around and beyond the lands of Tyranfal and Altamar. Val was uneasy, because the only one not stony silent was Daggarth. The barbarian had taken the silence of the others as an invitation to regale everyone with legends from his frozen land. Val enjoyed some of them, would have been more enjoyable if she hadn't sensed something wrong.

Kirann gazed at the horizon, his brow knitted in an extreme observance of what lay ahead. Laser focused on finding the Masters of Horus, stopping them from perpetrating another attack on good people. He had forgone his daily meditation, but not his daily training. His bolts of sunfire had become more deadly, but also more unpredictable. Haphazardly his body would emit the sun pulse blasts that blinded enemies, only this time causing a distraction to his team.

Val, went to talk to Raven, but she too seemed to have caught Kirann's tense mood. The Tiefling woman smile at her of course, and try to make polite conversation. Val could tell her heart wasn't in it, and the smile was more forced than genuine. The rogue was worried about her friend, worried for them all.

Most days she felt invincible with them, with her friends and teammates. Now, it wasn't the same. Kirann's laconic wit and dry sense of humor had become almost nonexistent. Raven's songs had begun to have a melancholy tone to them, while Leilani buried herself in scrolls, trying to do the work of a wizard. Because her power came naturally, this type of work left her feeling drained. That left Walton, whom spent most of his days in prayer to the God of Justice, Tyr.

"If any of you on high are listening," Val silently prayed to herself. "I miss my friends, a little direction might help. Please, pretty please."

A rumble of thunder seemed to answer her, and she frowned. It seemed even the gods were in a foul mood. The scent of rain filled the air, and Kirann pulled the reins towards the only set of trees on the plain. Rushing the cart forward, he deftly maneuvered it under the trees, just as the rain began to fall all around them.

Unable to go further at the moment, the Challengers took stock of their surroundings. There were a total of five trees, about ten feet apart, making up a circle. In the center of this was a stone statue, sitting with its outstretched hands to the sky above. Around it and surrounding the outside of the trees was a beautiful garden of vibrant flowers. A cornucopia of colors and smells, the well kept garden was one of the most beautiful things they all had seen in quite some time. It had been well tended to for quite some time, and by hands that cared very deeply for the life springing forth.

Raven knelt down, to smell one fragrant flower. As she did, a hint of white stone peeked from beneath the flowers. Gently she moved them aside to find the stone was a marker. It read, "Gurl." Exploring further, she found several more, all under beautiful sets of blooming flowers. "Other Gurl, Young Gurl, Youngest Gurl," each one said, and Raven wondered what story lay behind them.

"Everyone, get some rest," Kirann said. "It looks like the rain is going to last a while."

Camp was quickly set, food prepared and the party settled in to wait out the storm. Beneath the canopies of the five trees, they remained dry, protected from the elements. It was almost as if this little garden was sectioned off from the rest of the world. Peace rolled off of it, as if the chaos of the world outside couldn't touch anything inside the garden.

Kirann found himself standing in front of the stone statue. It sat with its legs around one of the five trees. At one time, it would have protected the tree, but now the tree protected it. Similar to how a parent protects a child when young, but the child grows to protect the parent in their elder years.

He breathed and felt tired, like he had been carrying a grand weight on his shoulders. It was still there, just that he was more aware of it. However, he no longer had anger or indignation to fuel carrying it any longer. Stripped from him, by the beauty of this place. He silently wished to rest here for a while, forget the mission driving him forward for a brief time. The person who left wouldn't be him, though.

"For one of the short lived, you look troubled," rumbled a raspy voice, one unused for a very long time.

Kirann saw the lips of the stone statue moving, a golem then. Its hands moved, slowly at first, as bits of debris and dirt fell from its joints. The unmistakable grinding of rock on rock soon was replaced by a softer sound. The monk was curious about this golem, and it wasn't showing any aggressive signs.

"Are you the caretaker of this garden?" he asked the golem.

It answered back with what seemed genuine interest, "I was. A gurl gave me this ever tree, and I've guarded it ever since. The bees and birds tend to my garden now, while I protect my tree."

"It is a beautiful tree," Kirann admired it. "Strong, durable, it has an enchanting charm."

The golem nodded, "It remains in bloom all year, withstands the heat and the cold. A special gift from a special person. She and her, I believe you call them family, rest here."

"The gravestones Raven found under the other trees," Kirann said.

The golem looked down, "They became the trees. They were my friends."

"It's beautiful," Kirann smiled. "From death comes new life."

The golem seemed to perk up, "You understand. My friends will always be with me."

"We won't disturb you longer than necessary," Kirann wanted to put the golem at ease. "We'll leave after the storm passes."

The golem turned its head, studying the monk, "You and your friends are welcome to stay, as long as you need. It has been a long time since I've had guests that admire my garden."

"Thank you," Kirann bowed respectively.

The monk sat, feeling the peace of this place. Outside the raging storm bellowed, but in here all was calm. Lightning cracked off in the distance, but under the treetops, Kirann felt warmth. The sound of the raindrops against the leaves beat like little drums, with a soothing rhythm. He let out a deep breath, and let his spirit go.

The world whisked away, and he was back at the center of everything. The heartbeat of creation thumped all around him. Light blazed through him, the fire of life throbbing inside his being. Stretching out his hand, he had a multitude of worlds in his palm. Life, he felt life flowing from these worlds.

They weren't his, but they had a similar energy. Chaos, order, struggle, strength, and beings overcoming challenges. Magic surged, creating and destroying. Steel and flesh clashing together, knowledge and wisdom evolving beings to better versions. Warriors fighting for personal gain, turned into knights fighting for all that is good and holy. Mages and sorcerers turning from self-interest, to using their skills to build a better world.

Pleas came, asking for aid, for favor. Divine warriors calling out for strength added to their own, for knowledge to defeat evil. Strong men and women of all races pleading for the extra edge to defend those who can't defend themselves. Indomitable beings standing against the tide of darkness, threatening to extinguish the light of life. He stretched out his hand and those beings surged with power.

"You are almost ready," a voice said.

Kirann opened his eyes, instantly back in his body. For the first time since pursuing the Masters of Horus, he felt centered again. The weight was still there, but his strength had returned. There was still something he had to do, something he had been holding back on doing.

He was so used to holding onto everything, as if he was the only person that was responsible. He wasn't. Each person made their own destiny, chose their own path. His team, his friends had chosen to follow him. Most because they believed in what they all did, but some because they wanted power.

Manheim wasn't his fault, even if he had seen more good in the man, then there turned out to be. Boris wasn't his fault, the Dwarf had chosen to forgo all bonds of fellowship, all because of skin. He had treated them like anyone else, welcome allies in making something better in the world. As such, he wasn't responsible for them. He only needed to stop them, if possible, bring them back to face justice.

Kirann turned to the golem, "Thank you."

"You look better, short lived one," the golem said. "You seem to be glowing."

Kirann smiled, "My gift to your garden."

The monk exuded the light of the sun. All around him, the plants of the garden responded. Warm rays of light touched each plant, feeding them and causing them to grow. Lorinda could make them strong with natural magic, but he could provide them with a part they needed for sustenance. He was happy though, as the plants all turned towards him, and he felt a little of the burden shift off of him. It was good to help something grow.

"Short lived one, you have made my garden bloom," the golem admired. "You control the seasons?"

"Sadly no," Kirann explained. "I merely gave them more energy. The seasons still remain. Soon, they will wilt, as fall leads to winter."

The golem seemed to ponder for a moment, "I still, what you call love, seeing them in bloom like this. You value such things, would you like to take a flower with you?"

Kirann said, "Not now. I still have a quest. However, with your permission, I will return for one."

"That, how do you put it, would please me," the golem said. "The storm still rages, please stay till it ends."

Kirann agreed and went to find Raven. He gently put his arm around her, and enjoyed her warmth. He told her of what he had seen during his meditation and of the talking golem. Curious as she was, he knew that she wanted nothing more than to talk to the it. So, he took her back, and they had a grand conversation with the automaton. She sang the golem a story. The others came to listen as well, and the night went on.

In the morning, the Challengers continued on their way. However, Val noticed that Kirann was back to himself, and Raven was singing upbeat songs. Walton was smiling and chatting with Daggarth. He was telling the barbarian all about their past exploits, and the barbarian listened intently. Leilani was chatting with Val, and though still looking over scrolls, she was much more relaxed.

The rogue wasn't sure which deity had heard her plea, but her friends were back. She sent a silent thanks up, with the realization sometimes a tempest was more than it seemed. Sometimes, it gave you the chance to halt and take stock of where things were headed. With that she leaned back in the wagon and listened to Leilani, at peace in that moment.


	46. Chapter 46

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XLVI

Manheim stood in the center of his summoning room. A chalk circle before him glowed with arcane power, the special candles helping to magnify his power. Protection it provided from what he was summoning. He wouldn't admit it, but he was truly scared. A master of his art, dealing with the denizens of other planes was something not done lightly. Still, he was in control, and the being materializing in his circle would know it.

Wisps of putrid air circled around, smelling a mix of carrion and decaying matter. He ignored it, knowing this was one way such beings tried to break the concentration of those summoning it. Next came the bone on bone scratching, and the high-pitched screeching. A cold wind whipped through his summoning room, passing through Manheim and making him chilled to the bone. He almost lost his concentration when burning fire ran down his spine, the shock of cold to hot punishing him. His concentration held.

The being materialized into its full unnatural horror, "Little wizard, your soul is mine!"

The devil slashed out at Manheim, only for its hand to bounce off an invisible wall. The devil tried again, this time kicking it, but was stopped again. It gave a smirk before taking the shape of a woman of royalty. Dressed in a full-length slinky gown, her ample bosom was on display and a waist high slit showed off more than just her leg.

"You have taken precautions, mortal," the devil said. "It is not every day one of your kind can summon me, so name your desire, and we'll settle on a price."

Manheim spoke, his throat was very dry, but he managed speech, "What is your name, so I may know who I parlay with?"

"Tricky, tricky little mortal," the devil tisked. "You may call me, Malena. You though are known as Manheim." The wizard's color faded from his face. "Did you think to summon one such as me, and have all your secrets remain hidden? You have fear in your heart, yes, much fear. One would imagine someone as delicate as you would be fearful of most in your world."

"I fear no one!" Manheim shouted. "I do know about the unpredictability of life. For all my power, I am one dice throw from being ended."

The devil rolled her eyes, "You could have summoned half a dozen different devils, or other planars to teach you about phylacteries. This is a waste of my time."

"I did not summon you for such a mundane task, for I have a target worthy of you," Manheim said. "An Aasimar, who has become a hero to the people. His death would breath their spirits and their hearts. His enslavement would destroy them."

The devil perked up slightly, "Why should I take care of such a thing? Mortals, even Aasimar, die."

"Yet, he and his band give them hope, and with that, he gains more power," Manheim explained. "There are trials that should have ended him, that he survived. His party's example provides harmony, where you could sow discourse."

"What do you gain out of this, mortal?" the Malena said seductively.

Manheim smiled, he had her, "We both gain. You get to take out an Aasimar, get to destroy or corrupt such a divine soul. I get an adversary taken out, and in return I'll give you the souls of my minions. They'll be my gift to you, to use as you see fit."

"You have those already?" she asked, new interest in her eyes.

Manheim knew to be careful with his words, "I can have them, but you'd have to wait till they were no longer of use to me. In essence, I have their lives, you'll have their afterlives."

"If you can guarantee this, I can assist you in taking out this troublemaker," Malena prowled around the protection circle. "I will contact you with the details. In the meantime, take this amulet as a symbol of our pact. It will increase the arcane potency of your spells, and will allow me to talk with you, without needing such crude circles."

"Then we have a deal," Manheim let out a breath, and felt himself relax.

The devil disappeared, but not before saying one more thing, "For now, resourceful wizard."

Leilani cast out her power, letting a fireball fly from her hand and smash into a nearby boulder. The rock blew apart, raining down fiery bits of nearly magma to the ground below. She looked on with appreciation of her growing abilities. Her control was getting better too. Before she was proficient in slinging the arcane, but she was increasingly moving into expertly. With a masterful command of her abilities, she found herself both thrilled and worried. It seems the more one gains in power, the more one needs to fear losing control of it.

The Challengers had stopped by some old ruins to camp for the night. Kirann had felt the need to go in this direction, like he was being guided. Now in the ruins, he could feel the energy exuded from it. The magic was clear enough to be felt even by those not used to feeling the arcane. Val had spoken about a feeling of energy and high fear. For Leilani and Raven, they both began scouting out the ruins. For Kirann, he felt the energy of those who had lived here before.

He felt the familiar presence of Al materialize beside him. Kirann looked curiously as the angel took shape. One could be mistaken for thinking things were fine, but the monk knew there was something off. The angel's clothing was mussed, like he had just been in battle. Though no injuries were present, the angel was favoring his left leg. Still, he had a bright smile on his face.

"Good to see you, kid," Al embraced Kirann. "I don't have much time, but I have some information to help your group out."

"Are you okay?" Kirann asked.

Before he could ask more, Al stopped him, "Not much time. I'll be okay, but things are moving rapidly. In these ruins are weapons of great power, you'll need to find them."

"Something bad is coming?" Kirann asked, though he knew Al would let him know what he could.

Al seemed sad, "You have made me prouder than any mentor could help. There are forces coalescing, and your group needs an edge. Take them further into the ruins, and you'll find a bounty if they are worthy."

"I will do this," Kirann said.

The angel smiled and then started to disappear, "I wish I could stay longer, but just mind all you have learned. Save you, it will."

The monk puzzled over his guardian's random appearance, and briefly wondered about it. What battle was the angel fighting up in the heavens, and why was it important for him to come here now? Whatever it was, he would be wise to heed his mentor's advice and travel further into the ruins. Whatever this bounty was, they would discover it.

An hour later, with the sun still high in the sky, they found a stone entrance. Covered in moss, and smelling of swamp water, they almost missed it. Surrounding the entrance, were lush bushes of overgrowth and vines. Nothing covered the entrance, almost as if in reverence of what lay inside.

Stairs led down into an underground structure, and the way after a few steps, was near dark. Alongside the tunnel were bolted torches. Kirann lit one, and surprisingly they all lit. There must have been some strong magic, as the torches worked as well as they did when they were last used. Whenever that was, but Kirann wasn't sure how long ago that was. He was sure it was a very long time ago, however Raven would have a better idea.

Once through the downward tunnel, the Challengers found themselves facing a wide-open room. It stretched at least ten yards left or right, and was about the same forward. Thanks to the surprisingly vibrant light from the torches, the adventurers could make out multiple hallways that led to other rooms. They could spend years here, and could still not map all of the structure. It might be fun to come back and try though.

"Who bothers the deserving dead and their rest?" the voice came from all around them, loud and fierce.

Behind Kirann, Daggarth held his axe ready to strike. Leilani pulled her magic around her, while Val quickly put her hands on her short swords. Walton was standing stoic, like a statue against the assault of the voice's loud words. Kirann though, seemed relaxed. He stepped forward, his bare palms facing the empty room.

"We are the Challengers, and we were sent here to acquire a boon against our enemies," he explained. "A good friend told me that if we were found worthy, we could acquire some artifacts."

"If you are worthy," the voice boomed. "You stand on the final battle between two civilizations. One fighting under the banners of the gods, the other under the banner of everything evil and wrong. Prove worthy of their sacrifice, and you may leave with a reward."

The voice left, with none of the Challengers able to get it to respond. Instead all the torches, but those leading to six rooms, immediately extinguished. The Challengers moved forward, the plan was to enter each room together. The structure had different ideas. As they moved, each member of the Challengers found themselves moving away from the others. If they tried to go back, or reach the others, they only moved further away. It seemed each room was a challenge for them to face separately.

The first to enter was Val. Her room had an immediate tripwire just inside the door. Using her dagger, she managed to cut it and the trap was disabled. Moving cautiously forward, she found three more. Each one was disarmed, but her hearing and sense of smell clued her into a new danger.

She jumped out of the way as a huge, lumbering creature lurched out. Drool dripped from its mouth, and its eyes roamed over her. Gnashing teeth came together as the creature let out a roar. It slammed a hand to the floor, sending tremors that Val felt. Her hands fell to her weapons, ready to draw, but she held.

Again, the creature gnashed its teeth, and hit the ground as it roared. Moisture glistened in its eyes, and its brow was scrunched up. Val tilted her head, and moved out towards the creature. Its golden-brown skin glistened with perspiration, and it howled this time in a higher octave. Seeing her, it lunged forward and she stopped in her tracks.

The creature slammed its fist into the floor again, and Val felt like her insides were being shaken out. She didn't move forward though, and it didn't move any further. Instead it leaned down, putting its face closer to her. Val let go of her blade hilts and put her hand gently up to the creature. It rubbed its face against her hand, and the watery eyes let tears out.

Gently she rubbed her hand over the creature's face, and it gnashed its teeth again. She took a moment to look, trying to see why the creature kept doing this. She noticed one of the teeth was pure black, and the gum tissue around it was swollen crimson. White puss seeped out from the tooth, and it was obviously causing the creature pain.

"Listen big guy," Val said. "I think I can help you, but you have to be very still."

The creature looked at her, and she thought it understood. However, it didn't speak, so she would have to go on faith. Taking one of her daggers, she opened the creature's mouth up, and gently put the tip near the tooth's edge. The creature cried out in pain, as she did so. There just wasn't a good way to do this. So, she patted the creature's head again.

"I know, I know," she said. "This is going to hurt, but you'll feel much better once I'm done."

Taking another look, she realized the creature had very sharp, long claws on its hands. She was also within striking distance of said claws. Val hoped she was doing the right thing, and that she wasn't making a mistake. Because, she really didn't want to die in some dungeon, trying to alleviate a creature of a toothache.

"Just hold on, big guy," Val quickly set her dagger under the tooth and flipped. "Please don't eat me."

Quick as a flash of light, the tooth flew out. The rotten thing hit the ground several feet away, clattering around before smashing into tiny pieces. Val quickly pulled her dagger back, no blood coated it. There was blood that poured the newly vacated hole in the creature's mouth. It howled in pain, but quickly stopped.

Despite the blood running down its chin, the creature gave a huge grin. Its brow relaxed and its eyes opened in overt thanks. Scooping the rogue up, the creature gently, but firmly hugged her. At first shocked, she went along, returning the creature's embrace. It set her down before turning around. It walked away, waving at her and Val knew she had a new friend.

"Val the Rogue, Half-Elf, born of two worlds," the voice returned. "You have shown great compassion to a creature in pain. Though a danger to you, and with no way to communicate, you connected with it. Through this, you alleviated its pain, at no small danger to you. You are granted a boon. 'The Altruist Armor,' is infused with magics, making your wounds close faster and will heal you completely once a day, or slightly multiple times a day. Once used up, the magic will take a full day to recover."

"Thank you," Val said as she walked up to the rising pedestal.

On it was armor that at first looked like plate armor, but quickly changed to leather. It went from a glowing, gleaming metal to saturated brown leather. Putting it on, the armor was made as if for her. Being a magical boon from some forgotten civilization, it very well could be.

The voice boomed again, "Thank you, Val of the Challengers. You have proven worthy. Once the others are done, they will meet you at the entrance."

Light flooded all around Val, and when her sight returned, she was back at the first room. Off in the distance, she heard her friends going through their own trials. She looked down at her new armor, marveling at how it moved with her. It felt more like wearing no armor, easier to move in than any other armor she had. She couldn't wait to see what the others brought back.


	47. Chapter 47

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XLVII

Daggarth walked into a human city, very different than the ones he had seen before. Normally he just saw them from a distance, but there were rare times when he was allowed inside. Though they were rarely this size. The southern grand cities dwarfed the ones of the north, well at least his north.

Towers lifted high into the sky, like slender mountains created by artisans, not nature. He didn't like them, they were wrong. Mountains should be made of stone and be places to meet the gods. Instead he could only imagine what perversions the wizards did in these towers. To him magic was best in the hands of the shamans, wise men and women that knew the price of power. Wizards too frequently forgot that, and grasped beyond their reach.

He continued on, his axe riding in his hand. Something about this city had his hackles raised, more than usual. Cities were too crowded for his liking, but this was different. That sense of danger he got during battle was ringing solidly in his ears. Daggarth would be ready to meet it with cold steel, and destroy it.

Sounds of battle lay ahead, and Daggarth knew his path had been true. Whatever had sent him here, had meant for him to destroy the challenge inside. He rushed forth, axe raised for striking. War cry on his lips, he skidded to a halt when he saw the unfolding conflict. His mind trying to comprehend what he was seeing.

Thousands of Orcs lined up in defensive positions fought against humanoid beings, that looked like the worst parts of bears and pigs mixed. The squealing things were attacking, with weapons that were crude. Made of bone and unrefined metals, they were held together with leather straps and sinews of large animals. Their tactics were quite primitive as well, rushing forward towards the Orcs in wave after wave.

One of the defenders saw Daggarth and waved him over, "Help us barbarian! The invaders are going to overrun us!"

Daggarth lifted his axe, strength coursing through him. Rushing forward, his eyes were locked onto those who needed to be slain. He slammed his axe head into the nearest target, screaming as he did so. Blood and gore bathed all the combatants as an Orc fell to the ground, axe head stuck in its cranium. He lifted his axe again, halving another Orc in one savage chop.

One of the invaders swung at him, and Daggarth brought his axe around. Stabbing the head into the creature's gut, he heard it squeal a gross screech of pain. Turning to face another invader, he slammed the butt of his handle into its face. Daggarth heard cartilage crunch, as the pig thing's nose broke. He didn't waste a movement, and chopped down on the first invader. Embedding the axe head into its back, he tore it out and brought it around for an upper chop. This strike tore the second attacker's jaw in two, and the pig bear thing fell to the ground to bleed out.

Another of the Orcs, who hadn't seen his first attack, cheered for Daggarth. His reward was an axe to the face. Beside him, a female Orc tried to scramble away. The barbarian hit her in the leg, and she fell to the ground hard. Her knee was nearly severed from the rest of her leg, and she howled in pain. Over her Daggarth held his axe, ready to end her. She was only saved by another Orc tackling the barbarian.

"What are you doing?" this Orc asked.

Daggarth snarled as he catapulted back up, "I'm killing monsters!"

With another hard chop, that Orc fell in two. Meanwhile the female Orc he had maimed, bravely stood on one good leg, held up with her spear. Without thought, he rushed and ended her too. Another two invaders came, and he took them out too. They soon started to give him a wide berth, while the Orcs readjusted their lines against two different foes. Daggarth slaughtered any that fell into his view, invader or defending Orc.

"Enough!" a voice rang out, and everything, everyone stopped.

Daggarth rushed towards an immobile Orc, blood lust in his eyes. As he brought his axe down, it hit nothing. The head continued through where the Orc had been, and hit the ground. He quickly turned around, growling, only to see the invading monsters disappear. All the enemies were gone, with only a disapproving, stern, glowing being with wings and the beak of a bird.

"Daggarth of the Challengers, you have failed the test of benevolence," the voice said angrily. "Before you were champions calling for your aid against a threat. Of all the ways to solve this issue, you chose to let your prejudices blind you."

"They are Orcs!" Daggarth challenged. "Orcs are evil and all know it!"

The winged bird like man spoke, but with a force that sent the barbarian to his knees, "Just as Frost Giants? I know of your parentage barbarian, and yet your leader chose to bring you along. Your party aids you and defends you, they look past your skin.

These were not Orcs, they were Uruks, from a world similar to yours. There they are a goodly race, and live in harmony with the Humans and Elves of that world. The battle you fought was won by a stranger long ago, who happened upon this battle. That warrior fought as legend, and when the battle was finished left. They erected statues to that hero, and never saw them again. Go now, and face your group. Let them know of your failure, and the sin of hatred that has taken root in your heart!"

Daggarth pushed to stand, to rebuke this winged being, but in a flash all was done. He found himself flung hard to the floor beside the Half-Elf rogue. Everything in him hurt, like he had been fighting all day. Phantom wounds from numerous hits surged across his body, and a scream escaped his throat. To add insult to injury, Val came over to comfort him. As she held him, he felt shame being so weak, and cursing the winged being that had done this. He hadn't learned the lesson.

Leilani felt very alone. All around her were huge dunes of sand, and the sun scorched high above her. Nearby a snake slithered sideways in front of her. It was unlike any that she had ever seen, but the angular head made her think it was venomous. That was something she wanted to avoid, especially since she didn't know how to treat a bite from it.

She pulled her hood up, more to keep the blazing sun out of her eyes. She didn't want to be blinded in this place, as the only thing worse than sand dunes for as far as you could see, were bleary shapes for as far as you could see. Her magic was at the ready, but she held off against using it. She may have to summon water and food, or use it to fight off any hostile enemy.

Thanks to her adoptive father, she was able to translate some of his teachings to find her bearings. It wasn't perfect, but she knew which direction she wanted to head first. A western direction was as good as any. After making that decision, the rest was left up to fate. Terra incognita was what she was stuck in, and without any further clues, her direction was as good as any.

Luckily her travel pack had come with her, when she had been sent here. After a few hours of walking, she took it off and pulled out some stored water. Finding a rather large dune, she hid in its shadow, waiting. The shade temperature wasn't much better than the direct sunlight, but it was cooler.

She took a quick drink from her waterskin. The water inside was still cool, or just seemed that way based on how hot the desert was that she was in. Sighing in relief, she gazed around. Leilani knew the sun was moving, and as such her time in the shade was going to be brief. At least it would give her some time to rest, before slogging it through the desert again.

When the sun was almost on her, Leilanni left the temporary sanctuary. She felt better, and made good time on her western direction. It was about an hour later that she ran into two other travelers. One was a child, holding the hand of a doubled over adult. The Drow could see the wild hair and burned red skin on both of them. For the adult, it was worse, with the skin already cracking and peeling.

She also saw that they were Humans, and a direct intervention could lead to a fight. However, the adult didn't look like they were going to be able to muster much. Left like they were, it was a good possibility that both would be dead in no time. Their movements showed them to be severely overheated, and very dehydrated. They could use the water in her waterskin more than she could at the moment. It was just a matter of getting them what they needed.

Thinking quickly, she moved ahead with her head down. The child saw her first, pulling on the adult's arm. The adult raised their head, but couldn't see Leilani, instead looking about wildly. They couldn't see the child point, but soon they were able to see the moving shape that was Leilani, to their blinded eyes.

"Peace traveler," Leilani said. "You look like you could use some help."

"Beware brigand, I can still smite you in twain," the adult said.

Leilani could see the adult was a Human woman. Though her face was scared from exposure, part of her uniform remained. She was a soldier, and the child either her charge or her own child. Either way the soldier was bound to be very protective of the young one. That was fine by Leilani, she didn't mean any harm to either of them.

"I am no brigand, just a traveler," Leilani gently said. "I have water here, you and the girl need it more than I. Here take it."

She held out the waterskin, walking forward slowly. She didn't expect the adult woman to be able to see it, but she guided it into the other woman's hands. Without any grace, the woman tired unsuccessfully to remove the stopper on the waterskin. Leilani held up her hands, to show she was no threat, and opened the waterskin.

"There, now take slow sips," she told the woman. "Your body will want you to guzzle it, but take it slow."

To her surprise, the woman took one gulp, before handing the waterskin to the child. She gave the same warning to the child, as Leilani had to her. Though not as disciplined as the adult, the child did as instructed. After emptying about half, the woman was given the skin again. She downed the rest, before nearly falling over.

"Here, there is a large dune we can shelter under for a while," Leilani suggested. "It will give you some time to rest."

"Stranger, I can not," the adult woman called back. "I must get my charge across this desert, or her line dies with her."

"Very well, to where do you travel?" Leilani asked, hoping to do something else for them.

The woman reached for her sword, "That is not for your ears, and I must ask you to leave!"

Leilani put her hands up, then realized the other woman really wouldn't be able to make that out. Instead, she'd have to rely on her tone of voice, and the words she chose. Something that she was very used to doing, due to her heritage. However, if she could earn their trust, she might be able to help them.

She put her intention into her voice, "I mean you no harm, but I would be remiss if I left you wandering in the desert. Let me at least know if you head east or west."

"We were heading East, to a friend," the child said, before her guardian could quiet her.

The adult, now realizing it was too late said, "Another ten miles eastward should be a friendly land for us."

"Very well, let me help you then," Leilani said. "Give me some spare cloth of yours."

The woman was hesitant, but handed the Drow two squares of cloth. They were too thin to protect against the cold, and to small to properly protect their whole bodies. She could work with them though. Pulling her magic, she released it into her hands. This attack would freeze anything she touched, and it turned both squares cold. Folding them up, she placed them between the cloak and tunic of both women.

She didn't want to press them directly against the skin, for fear of causing the two travelers shock. However, now it should keep them from overheating for a while yet. She had given them water to rehydrate, something to cool them off, now she only had one last gift to give. Hesitantly she reached the guardian, and turned the woman.

"This direction is East," she told the other woman. "If you are only ten miles out, you must stay straight."

The ease at which she was able to reorient the woman surprised her. There was barely any fight, and the woman felt so light. She and the child had obviously been through a lot, and she had sacrificed for her charge. Leilani wanted to leave some food, but they both looked like that would be a bad idea. After a time of starving, the body requires time before solid food could be eaten again.

"Stranger, if what you say is true, you have my thanks," the woman said.

Leilani smiled, "In the wastes, we must help each other. Thanks to you, I know a way out of this desert. Thank you, and may the gods watch over you and your charge."

Leilani walked off, ready to shadow them just in case. She was worried about them, and though duty and pride prevented the woman from asking for help, she would be there if they needed it. The fact that her waterskin was empty, she knew she'd have to refill it soon. She just hoped there was an oasis near. If not, she still had her magic. That would keep her for a while, if she had to summon water.

However, a bright light surrounded her, and the overbearing heat of the desert was gone. In its place was the cool air from the underground ruins, that she and the Challengers had entered. A voice called out all around her, booming, but not overwhelming her senses. Instead she felt warm tingles run up and down her spine.

"Leilani of the Challengers, you have passed the test of generosity," the voice said. "You found those in need, and gave all that you safely could to them. With little regard to your own survival, they now have a chance.

They will make it to the friendly kingdom. There they will find a safe haven, and when the child is grown, will return to their kingdom. Thanks to the aid of their ally, the child will free their people from tyranny. The guardian will be forever remembered as Brienne the Sightless, but will feared by her enemies for her ferocity.

As a reward for your selflessness, you will be gifted the 'Cloak of Sanctuary.' While you wear it, scorching sun or blistering cold shall not affect you. Nor will any drenching rain sap your strength, and falling snow will glide right off you. Wrap the cloak around you, and for a limited time, some physical and magical attacks will harm you not. Good luck out there."

The voice faded and Leilani saw Val come into focus. She was holding a battered Daggarth in her lap. His face was fiercely angry, and Leilani could only guess as to why. Val herself looked no worse for the wear. Which begged the question, what had happened to Daggarth? Would it happen to the others? She worried about the remaining Challengers, hoping they succeeded. She could only wait. In her pack, her waterskin reappeared, full of water, like it had been before her test.


	48. Chapter 48

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XLVIII

Walton stood on a hill, one verdantly green and full of wildflowers. The smell of their sweet nectar rose up on the air to tickle his nose. Weariness bore down on him, the simple want to let go for a few moments. He was tired, even surrounded by this fantastical paradise. Beyond his immediate hill led to a lush garden valley. He wished to go there now.

His vow, his sentence weighted him down on his spot. Chained to this hill of beauty, Walton found himself drawn to the more beautiful valley. Maybe one day, but not today. He still had a quest, and a burden to carry. When his sentence was completed, maybe he would search for this valley. Something told him he'd not find it in his lifetime, but Walton ignored that. He needed hope.

He moved away from the valley, his heart breaking. Each of his footfalls echoed, drumming with the beat of his heavy heart. Inside he felt the warm feeling of his connection to Tyr. At one time this would have lifted his spirits to the heavens above. Now, it was just a reminder of the grace of his lord. Walton had come to understand that one is never worthy of being the champion of Justice, but rather it was a constant adventure.

His attention was torn from his inner reflection by screams, horrified yells of pain and terror. Walton ran forward, sword already in his hand. He may have felt weary, but he was born for the role he played. Rushing forward to defend those in need, he was the holy warrior from his childhood dreams. These moments were where he felt the most like himself, before the stain on his soul.

Walton brought his sword up to meet an attacker standing over a fallen man, ready to end their target. Tyr's power flowed through him, his eyes glowing golden with his god's favor. The God of Justice still saw something in him, something worthy of investing in. As such, as his blade fell, golden light trailed its edge.

The attacker fell forward, and Walton's blade ricocheted off the attacker's armor. A sliver of metal fell of the attacker's armor, hitting the ground unseen by the paladin. Walton continued on with his attack, only to have the other fighter dodge away. Because of his training, Walton brought his blade back around, making the other fighter jump back again. This stopped the counter-attack the other fighter had come up with.

Walton pulled his sword back into defensive position, readying to strike again. Feet away, the fallen man was being cradled by a woman. Crying over the man's deep wound, seeping severely the lifeblood of the man onto the ground. The fallen man wasn't young, and that blood had seen a lifetime. Struggles and hardships overcome, endured, with loves and friendship embraced. Sins and virtues, actions of evil and good, all went into one's life, this man was no different.

Behind the two dueling warriors, the town was coming to life. Four riders came riding out, headed towards Walton and the unknown fighter. Heavily armored, and armed, each rider trailed fire, flies, wilting ground and noxious fumes behind them. Loaded down with loot, these raiders charged forward like forces of nature.

The unknown warrior pulsed with unholy magic, which leeched the color out of the warrior's surroundings. Where Walton pulsed light, this warrior seemed to do the reverse. The other warrior wielded a two handed sword, but the blade was dinghy, pocked with chips along the edge. They were reversed mirrors of each other, two ends of the spectrum of Good and Evil.

Walton's next attack knocked the helmet off his opponent, and he stopped short. The dark warrior's helmet had flown off, revealing a very young man's face. The unblemished, un-bearded face staring back at him, could only be barely beyond sixteen summers. How could one so young, have fallen so far? What Walton wasn't expecting, was the smudged, dirty mark of a god. This young man was a fallen paladin!

"Why?" Walton asked. "What has brought you so low to prey upon the common folk!"

The paladin rushed forward, bringing down his sword with righteous fury. The fallen paladin dodged, but by mere inches. He brought his sword up, but Walton knocked it away, nearly out of the young man's grasp. The fallen paladin backpedaled, only to be met with more fury from Walton. He managed to parry one blow and repaid the paladin's attack with a savage punch to Walton's face. The paladin smiled before smashing his helmeted head into the younger man's unprotected face. The fallen paladin fell to the ground, prone, defeated, and defenseless.

Walton stood over the young man, righteous anger flowing through him. Sword raised, he only had to bring it down to end this young man's evil forever more. Moments passed, the riders coming from the town came closer, but Walton never moved. Instead he lowered his blade and walked over to the dying man and the woman comforting him.

Leaning down, the paladin sheathed his sword, as he looked over the bleeding man. Walton looked over the wound, seeing it was very much mortal. This older man had probably minutes before he left this world. He could imagine the man's life flowing before his eyes, and Walton lowered his head in reverence. When he lifted it again, his eyes glowed and a prayer flowed off his lips.

Light of new dawn, light of life, and light of law erupted from the sky, landing near Walton. Three beams focused into one, with Walton as the main focus. He pulled the burning, invigorating, and energetic light into his body. Focused through his hands, he laid them upon the dying man and let the final verse of his prayer flow out. The last words came out thunderous, booming across the land.

The malicious four horsemen had their steeds trip and nearly throw them off. The woman though, felt just a simple wind. The fallen paladin, just rising from his defeat, screamed in agonizing pain. Walton held onto the power through this, till his deed was done. Then he let the power go, releasing it back to the holy spaces it had come from. With it, went a small portion of his strength. Such miracles had a cost, and this was it.

He stood, helping the once dying man up to his feet. The man was silent, but his eyes showed the gratitude. Those same eyes soon turned to terror, which is when Walton turned and struck the fallen paladin to the ground again. Behind him, the woman pulled the once dying man away, not wanting to be in the middle of two titans.

"Why?" the fallen paladin called out, blood trickling down his busted nose and mouth. "You waste your power on the weak!"

Walton didn't make a move, "What do you know of power? I have seen a man stand against a demon. I have seen a woman cursed by her devilish heritage, surpass to be one of the best I've ever known."

"They too waste their power on those who are beneath them!" the fallen paladin yelled. He tried to strike Walton.

The paladin caught the blow and sent the young man to the ground again. "A simple man, who everyone looked on as little better than a monster, sacrificed it all to return his friend's one true love," Walton continued. "Farmers and commoners answered their lord's call, not for glory, but for their family. You think the ability to kill, maim and inflict your will makes you powerful? It shows your weakness!"

The fallen paladin tried to rise, but found himself with Walton's armored boot to his midsection. Despite the armor, the young man rolled to the ground in pain. Looking up, he expected to see the fury that the paladin had before. He didn't, Walton was looking at him with pity. Infuriated the young fallen paladin rushed the older warrior, only to be returned to the ground, yelling in frustration.

"What made you break your oath?" Walton asked gently. "What could one so young have seen to warp you so?"

"You know nothing about me!" the fallen paladin shouted back. "I will not be judged by the likes of you!"

Walton looked at the mark again, recognizing it, "You were one of Torm's."

"He left me!" the young man said. "I stood against the four, and he left me. His strength betrayed me!"

"Being chosen to champion a god does not make one invincible," Walton said gently. "There are times when the better part of valor, is to advance in the opposite direction."

"You are deluded, the Four will destroy you," the young man growled.

Walton smiled, "Maybe, but my last stand will be in defense of those they prey upon. Yours would be on the ground, whimpering at the feet of what you could have been."

"You know nothing about me!" The fallen paladin was back on his feet, rushed at Walton. Quickly the paladin dodged, before restraining the young man.

"I think I do," Walton's voice was warm with empathy. "I too have dealt with my view of the world being destroyed. An evil man bewitched me, causing me to kill those I was meant to defend. When my god didn't leave me, I thought he was wrong. Only recently have I begun to see the truth."

"What is that, you bastard?!" the young man spat.

Walton continued on, "Though meant to be paragons, we paladins are chosen because we are mortal. We can make mistakes, we can falter, but it is what we do with it, that defines us. We can understand others, as we can make the same mistakes and correct choices.

Clerics might be the voice of a god, but we are their might. We are the armored shield that people flock to when the world goes awry, yet we are just mortal. We are the sword that smites evil, wherever it might be, yet we are just mortal. It is through this empathic connection, that we truly shine."

Walton let the young man go. The four horsemen were nearly upon them, and he had to be ready. It would be smart to kill the fallen paladin, finish him off. Five against one would be the death of him, but four against one wasn't much better. However, he didn't have the heart to. The young man was confused, probably from taking on a fight beyond his skill. There was still hope that he could find his path, and thanks to Walton, his victim would survive.

"Leave and never bother another soul again," Walton said, readying his sword.

The young man was shocked, "You're just going to let me go? Where is the justice in that, paladin?"

"Tyr calls for justice, but that doesn't always equal death," Walton explained. "You were once probably a promising paladin, but you failed. Instead of learning from that, you fell. By living, maybe one day you'll find your way back to grace."

"And if not?!" the fallen paladin's voice had grown weak.

Walton frowned, "Then I will hunt you down and destroy you. If you continue to prey upon the weak, then you will die. If you spend the rest of your life as a farmer, you might just find a new way."

"So, that's it, you're just letting me go?" the young man was still confused.

Walton turned, "Aye, go before I think better of it. Your four friends now require my full attention."

"You can't face them! They destroyed my teacher," the young man explained. "They took him out, and he held onto his belief in his god."

"Did his charges escape?" Walton asked.

"The peasants? Yes, they escaped, with the blood of my teacher paying for their cowardice," the fallen paladin said.

Walton smiled, "Then you missed the final lesson he taught you. Let me guess, he told you to go and protect them? Except you stayed to avenge your teacher."

"How…How did you…" the young fallen paladin was at a loss for words.

"You failed not because your god left you, but because of your pride," Walton explained. "He wanted you to get the peasants to safety, and then send warning of these attackers. Your sin wasn't in not believing, but your arrogance that you could take them by yourself. You could have been me, if I hadn't met my friends."

The four riders were near enough for one to send out two arrows. Walton deflected those arrows. Taking a rock from the ground, he lobbed it straight at the archer. The rock hit and the horse rider howled in pain. There were only seconds left before the riders would be in range for melee weapons. They had to be stopped, or more villages would be attacked like this. He couldn't allow that, no more pain for those just trying to eek out a living. He was ready.

"Run now, this is a fight I can't leave," he explained to the young man. "It doesn't matter if I fall here, but those four will not prey upon another innocent again!"

With that he rushed toward the first horseman. He slammed his sword into the rider, only the rider's shield kept him from being split into twain. The second rider reached out with a mace, and sent Walton to the ground. He was back up, his blade biting into the second horseman's steed. The horse cried out in pain, bucking the rider off. By this time the third rider took aim, and an arrow embedded into Walton's pauldron.

He didn't seem to notice, as he brought his sword around on the first horseman. This time he did leave a gash. The fourth horseman came storming in and nearly took Walton's head right off his shoulders. Instead, the paladin painfully picked himself up, sword glowing with holy energy in his hand. Three mounted horseman and one on foot, it was a start. He leapt straight at them, his sword swinging with untold ferocity.

The second horseman fell gurgling, as blood pooled out of a savage slice to the neck. Walton took a hit to his back from the fourth, but he repaid it to the third, who lost a hand. The first horseman ran into him on horseback, and Walton dodged the trampling, barely. He came back up with an attack that took the third horseman's steed out. His reward was another bone shattering blow to his back. Yet, he didn't fall, despite the tremendous pain.

Then without warning, the first horseman's head fell the ground, removed from the body. As the body fell, and the attention fell to the newcomer, Walton was pleasantly surprised. The fallen paladin stood there with only the faintest of glows surrounding his dirty armor. Walton moved quickly, taking advantage of the others' confusion. His next attack ended the third horseman, and he watched as the once fallen paladin fought valiantly against the fourth horseman.

The fight was brutal, with the young man taking several hits, but didn't go down. His opponent though fell to the ground, blood pouring out in great rivers. In pain, the fourth horseman begged to be let out of his misery, and the young man granted it. Almost immediately the fourth horseman decomposed, as if death had come to feast off the dead body.

The young man looked around, looked at his hands, and the sword in it. He thrust it into the ground, before falling to his knees and burying his head into his hands. From his fingers covering his face, came drops of water. All the pain and anguish hit the once fallen paladin, and though he hated to show weakness, it still came out.

"You did good out there," Walton said gently. "Your teacher would have been proud."

"Now what?" the young man asked, feeling completely drained.

"You live your life," Walton said. "If you decide to rejoin your order, and your god, that is up to you. Thanks to you, evil was stopped this day, and a paladin you could still make. There are other things out there, it is up to you."

The young man looked accusingly, "After all I've done, you're just going to let me go without judgement?"

Walton's face become stern, "You misunderstand, I have judged you. I have judged that if you fall again, or harm another innocent, that I will destroy you. There is still a chance for you to live a good life, and that is my judgement." Walton began to walk away before he stopped, "That town could use some help in rebuilding, if they'll have you."

Before the young man could respond, Walton was gone. The paladin found himself in the ruins again. The damage to his armor, and his injuries were repaired. He looked around the room, and saw the glowing pool in the middle. He went over to it, and looked into the mirrored surface. Before him was the young man he had been so long ago, full of life, sure of himself, and without the guilt he now carried.

"Walton, Paladin of Tyr, you have shown great Mercy," the voice of the ruins said. "You took an enemy and guided them back to the path of righteousness. You did not do this for glory or recognition, but because you saw a soul worth salvaging.

That young man would find another god to be their champion. He would campaign against evils all around him, both physical and spiritual. He became beloved by the peoples around his land, as a giving lord who took care of those in need. Yearly feasts fed the impoverished, as if they were kings. His manor became a sanctuary for all those in need, and at his death, the lands themselves mourned.

As one who understands Justice comes in many forms, you are bequeathed the Sword of the Just. As long as your heart is pure and just, this blade will never falter in your hands."

Walton returned back to the front of the ruins, finding all but two of his party had returned. Only Raven and Kirann had not returned. He hoped they were okay, but he wasn't worried. Of all of them, the monk would pass his test. However, he hoped that Raven's test wouldn't be too hard. She was a good person, but one that had grown up living in fear. That type of upbringing could make you choose poorly.


	49. Chapter 49

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part XLIX

Raven was surrounded by opulence. Gold curtains hung from the ceiling, swaying as dancers moved about. Energetic musicians pumped music into the air with the grace of an expert craftsman. Studious waiters moved between partygoers agilely, masterfully keeping their loaded platters from falling to the floor. Meanwhile well dressed guests danced in highly organized patterns of movement. She was the center of it all.

From Raven's lips, a song permeated the air, filing it with intense energy. It was intoxicating, drawing her away from herself and into the art, she had so taken to. Her hand strummed the guitar, the other intricately moving along the neck. Wondrous cords and notes spilled out from the instrument. Its sound was exotic, the manufacture of it giving a beguiling sound. The song she played was haunting, seeming to possess those around her.

The patron danced with his queen, feverishly keeping pace with her playing. His guards stood firm, their stony stares watching for any danger to their lord. Still, despite their discipline, their feet tapped to the sound of the music. Those few not caught up in the energy and movement of the song, stood around clapping in pure adoration.

Here she was loved for her ability, adored for her talent, and Raven felt in control. Clothing in the finest silks and fabrics, with servants to style her hair and makeup, she lived the life of her dreams. Those innocent dreams hadn't included being a bard, that was a recent change. They did include the richness and prosperity all around her, a hopeful dream for one without.

She finished her set, walking away as a blast of images hit her like a brick wall. She saw friendly faces, a Drow, a couple of Elf types, a paladin and a man that glowed, almost more real than his surroundings. Instead of pain, she felt belonging, acceptance and safety. She recognized the idea, only because she had been part of it, they were her family.

Raven slowed her pace, tears streaming down her face, but not out of sadness. Filled with pure joy, she couldn't help but weep. Overwhelmed she walked off, hoping to have avoided being seen. She needed a few minutes to recover, or rather to enjoy this overwhelming feeling in her heart.

In her chambers, the ceiling was so high above her head, to be barely visible. Curtains billowed inward, the wind from the outside pushing through the open windows. Her bed lay facing the window, where she knew gorgeous sunsets were able to be seen. The cloth stretched out along the bedposts, were tied back. She could see the expensive sheets and luxurious pillows piled high.

The most interesting part though, was the mirror on the dresser by the wall. She walked over, looking at it in shock. Raven saw a figure that was her, and wasn't. Her features were all there, minus the horns and her reddish skin tone. Instead she had a more olive complexion, and her dark hair was curled. Gold hair pieces set her hair, and she ran her hand over them.

Warm from the heat of her body, she removed the hair pieces. Long, gorgeous hair tumbled down in cared for curled masses. Running her fingers through the hair, she felt satiny smooth locks, and her hair shined in the dimming daylight. This version of her had the ability to take great care of herself.

Again, she knew this was always how she had imagined herself and her life. Away from the unwanted legacy of some devilish ancestor, and successful from her endeavors. A dream come true, and one that sorely tempted her. Yet, this wasn't her life, the person staring at her in the mirror, was a stranger.

"It doesn't have to be," a voice said. "You could have this all. You are very talented, and could command the highest price from the richest of noblemen."

Raven didn't recognize the speaker, though he was finely dressed. He appeared to be a Half-Elf, the product of two races joining in love. His eyes were a dark hazel, and instantly she thought of the blue of Kirann's eyes. The monk had great care and concern in his, this hazel eyed man only held calculation in his. He came toward her, and she reached for her scimitar. Only it wasn't there.

The man said with a smile, "You won't need your weapon. Here you'll live in luxury. You'll never have to worry about being outed, having someone kill you in your sleep. You'll live in complete safety, entertaining the court."

Raven moved away, looking for any weapon, "What's the catch?"

"There is no catch," the man said. "You've suffered enough in your life. Here you can place your burdens down. Chasing down bandits, fighting off the hordes of Orcs, seeing your friends betray you, none of that will happen here."

"No place is that safe and secure, there is always intrigue," she replied back.

The man laughed, "So true, but your music will enthrall those who hear it. They'll love you and never want to hurt you. Think of having the advantage, knowing that you are surrounded by those willing to die for you."

"I have friends," she angrily shot back, not sure why she felt so.

The man rolled his eyes, "Do you really thing they care for you? The Aasimar only keeps you around to kill, if you get out of line. The druid abhors you, sees you as being a blight of unnaturalness in Nature. You think the rogue and Drow care? The Drow sacrifice people like you before they have breakfast. The rogue is a cutpurse and a cutthroat. She wouldn't hesitate to kill you for the right price. The paladin is slowly returning to his holier than thou ways, how long before he sees you as an abomination to destroy, all for the honor of his god. We already know the barbarian would just as soon rip the demon out of you."

"You don't know them, and you don't know Kirann!" she screamed back, an intense anger in her voice.

The man smiled, showing he wanted her off balance like this, "However, you do have a choice. This kingdom is just a few days travel from where you are. Go to them, this new form my gift to you. Here you can take your well-deserved rest, be pampered, rewarded for the hard life you have lived.

A life you can never imagine awaits you. People to wait upon you, the finest food, the best wine. As you can see, the most luxurious of clothes, and feel who the fabric lays on your skin. You deserve this. How many people can claim to have gained so much, from starting off with so little?

Lay your troubles down here, the others are wasting your potential. Imagine the loss to the world, if your beautiful voice or dexterously talented hands were harmed. What sonnets would go unsung, and what songs would never come into being. Your fate is in the arts, not in martial contests."

"You lie," she said, but her voice cracked. She was tempted, who wouldn't be with such opulence just a few miles away.

The man smiled, "Never, all I have said is true."

Raven moved away and toward the window, which led to a balcony. She still kept the man in her sight, but she had to admit she wanted part of this. Who was she kidding? She wanted almost all of it. Raven also knew he was wrong about her friends. They would probably offer their support if she wanted to come here, Kirann would.

The sun started to set and the wind blew through her rich clothing. It felt good, but she had a niggling in the back of her mind. Off in the distance the woods outside the town were fluttering. She thought it might be due to the breeze, but the movement was too quick for such a gentle breeze. Her eyes focused and she saw splashes of light and fire scattered amongst the leaves.

Her heart jumped as one sun bolt blast sent a dying monster to burn up in the air. A bright flash of light followed a sword swing, and another monster fell to a holy blade. Magic erupted from another area, catching another creature off guard. These were her friends, she would recognize their abilities anywhere.

They were in a fight, doing what was right. She was here, being pampered and entertaining those who would hire her friends. Their sacrifice would ensure that others wouldn't have to fight, or give them the chance for peace. Raven found herself needing to be out there with them.

"At one time I would have traded everything for this life," she said to the man. "My family is out there, fighting for a better world and they need their bard!"

The man scoffed, "It is there fight, they chose this life. You don't have to follow that path; you owe them nothing. Don't throw your life away for some girlish crush."

She shook her head, "We all choose, and you're right, I don't owe them anything. I owe myself, to be true to who I am. That poor waif pining for a life of comfort is not who I am now. I am an entertainer, but also an adventurer."

"You are a fool to throw all this away!" the man screamed. "Do you know how you'll die if you leave? You'll die alone, in a gutter, killed by those you think you love."

"I am Raven the Bard, companion to Sun Warrior Kirann, member of the Challengers, and you know nothing about my fate!" she screamed with the full force of her heart behind her. "Nothing you have shown me here is real, nor is it something I want any longer."

The man scowled, "You are still that pitiful child, believing in daydreams and waiting for that prince to rescue you."

Raven felt herself stand straighter, "If and when I finally retire to such a position as this, it will be when I have done all that I can. I need no prince to save me! I do welcome a monk to share my life with, if he so chooses. I no longer need those dreams, as I have crafted new ones, and they are great dreams."

"Then you shall die!" the man said as he threw a finger out.

Lightning blasted from his finger and hit Raven square in the chest, throwing her to the ground. There she writhed in pain, as the electricity coursed through her, and she called out for help. She wasn't expecting any, as everyone had been separated coming into the ruins. Luckily for her, she was surprised mightily.

A golden figure with bat like wings sprouting from her back stopped the lightning. Another golden figure with dragon wings swooped in, blazing like the sun. Yet it was Kirann's form that took her breath away. He helped her up, yet something was off, he didn't move right. His hand was warm, but lacking the normal electricity she felt when they touched.

"You're not him, are you?" Raven asked the figure that looked like Kirann.

The not Kirann shook his head before speaking, "No, your mind created me for what you needed me for. I am an aspect of yourself, the part that loves another, simply for whom they are."

Raven laughed, "Definitely not him, I don't think I've heard him utter that many syllables in a full day. What am I supposed to do without my weapon?"

The not Kirann shrugged, "What would he tell you, what did you need to hear from his form?"

Raven was drawn back to all the conversations she had heard Kirann have with the rest of the party. He was always talking about their inner power, the part of them that made steel into weapons. The true armor of a person beyond the best made armor, the power inside their very being. It was his power, the power to merge body, mind and spirit into one. In Kirann it manifested as flame and sun beam attacks, blinding energy attacks that were destructive as wildfires.

She knew then the message she needed, and she stood. The golden figures disappeared, and the man pointed his hands at her, readying another spell of lightning. Raven reached deep within herself, found the power that she had awoken. The power of song and art, dance and inspiration. This whole thing was a play, and it was time she changed her part in this.

A blast of sonic energy blew the man back, as Raven sung forcibly at him. She didn't relent, screaming harder and louder. The man slammed against the wall, and she could hear something snap under his clothing. Forward she marched, using her voice to batter the Half-Elf man who had tried to hurt her.

In her hands she felt her guitar return. Not the one she had been playing for the assembled guests and nobles, but the one Kirann had bought for her. Instinctively her hands went to it, and she started playing the energetic chords of a song. The man howling in misery as she did, so she kept playing as if her life depended on it.

The man fell to the ground, his features slowly fading away. In his place was a fat, doughy looking demon. A demon of the sin Sloth, and one that enticed people to forgo their bonds for indifference. All around the beautiful palace degraded away, till it was just the ruins again. The demon gasping for breath, fading from existence, till it was completely gone. That left Raven alone, breathing heavily after the hard-fought battle.

When she looked up again after a few minutes, Kirann was standing there with her. Except this time, it was the real him. He smiled at her, and for the first time since entering the ruins, she relaxed noticeably. The trial was over, whatever she had been tested on was done. Raven was almost too tired to care. She hadn't ever used her abilities in that way.

"Looks like you did well," Kirann said. "I'll be done in a moment."

Yep, that was Kirann, no two ways about it. She laughed, relief flooded her. Even the blinding light enveloping her, barely got more than a raised eyebrow. Tested, pushed to use her training in new ways, Raven knew she had grown. She was sure that after this, all of them would have grown quite a bit. Whatever was coming, she and her team would face it, succeeding because of the bonds between them.

"The bard called Raven," the voice of the ruins rumbled. "You resisted Sloth, and saw past its trappings. Many mortals tend to see Sloth as being lazy, but it is much more. Indifference, apathy and negligence are more accurate. Instead you persistently went to aid your friends, despite the danger to you. Great diligence to the bonds between you, and what that meant to you, caused success where others fail.

To you I grant two boons, one for the purity in your heart, the pure love for your companions. The Armor of the Shaking Spear, protects against toxins, poisons and venom. Crafted by a great armorer for the one known as the Immortal Bard, who went on to a storied career as an entertainer and adventurer. Sadly, the name of the Immortal Bard was lost to history, but the armor remains.

The second boon is the Sword of Persistence. This cutlass was crafted by a wizard ship captain. His want was to create a blade that gathered power, that could be unleashed at will. The more the sword is used, the energy inside builds up, lending the blade an electrical charge. It is said a true master could blast enemies with lightning bolts, during lengthy battle.

Use them well, bard, for these are no simple gifts given."


	50. Chapter 50

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part L

Kirann Lichtus was in action, rushing headlong towards danger. It seemed this was his natural state, ever since that first day in the tavern. It felt like a lifetime ago, like his life could be summed up into two parts. There was the before he left the temple to find his way, and afterwards, no more, no less.

Before him a family was in danger, bandits had caught them in an alley. The child was a young boy, of around eight or nine, ten at the most. The mother pushed the boy behind her, while the father stepped in front of them both. Two thugs armed with short swords pressed their weapons into the man's chest. Sneers erupted as they demanded all the wealth and gems that the couple held.

Unbeknownst to the family, the two thugs weren't planning on letting them live. They didn't want the guards to be put onto them, and two rich lords were likely to get the attention their other victims didn't. Nobody cared if a few merchants got robbed, but these uppity ups they would care about. The thugs just couldn't resist the target tonight, it would be their biggest score.

Instead a light so bright to be a new son fell upon them. They looked up just in time for one of them to crumble to the ground. The other dropped his blade and clawed at his eyes. All he could see was a bright searing spot enveloping his vision. The thug on the ground blindly flailed around. He didn't have much more time to worry, for a radiant fist knocked him out cold. The other thug's eyes started to adjust back, and caught the image of Kirann, just before the monk sent him to the ground as well.

He turned around to the family, only for them to disappear into thin air. Replacing them was a well-dressed man, but one dressed in ages long past. The man stared at him, not exactly reverently, but differently than anyone else. It unnerved Kirann, he expected it was meant to.

"You do realize that having his parents killed in front of him," the man said dryly, "would have prompted the young man to be a great hero. He'd skulk through the night saving the innocents, and fighting the darkness overtaking the kingdom. You may have saved this family, but denied the realm a great champion."

"Nothing in this scenario said that," Kirann rebuked. "Instead innocence was about to be destroyed. That can not be allowed."

The man smiled, "I can appreciate that. I was hoping you were further along. Why does one like you still dwell amongst the mortals, don't you have more important things?"

"I am where I am supposed to be," Kirann said with surety.

The man looked at him, seeming to stare through him, and a confused look came over his face. Then the man's attention went to a bright glowing light directly over Kirann, and his expression went even wider. Instantly his demeanor changed from inquisitiveness to outright fealty. Throwing himself down to a knee, and facing the ground he began to pray in language that Kirann understood, but not sure how.

"My Lord, I apologize for my impetuousness. Please forgive me," the man's voice had changed to a bare octave below absolute terror.

Kirann helped the man up, "I need no one kneel before me. Now what are you talking about?"

The man looked between the blazing figure above Kirann, the one that had appeared as he had questioned the monk. A look of confusion crossed over his face, only to be quickly replaced with a gob smacked incredulity. He had heard of something like this happening, but that was during a great upheaval.

"I am afraid it is not my place to relate to you, as I think some part of you already knows. However, I am at your disposal. There is no reason for you to be tested, just name what you need and it is yours," the man said, sounding a little more assured of himself.

Still looking over Kirann, making the monk curious. He looked up, but didn't see anything. Even to the man, the man of light had disappeared. However, he knew what he had seen. If the monk didn't act like he knew of it, was better not to push him. Beings like him tended to punish those that made them angry.

"Follow me, Lord Kirann," the man said. "Well, Sun Warrior Kirann, I guess you'd respond better to."

Kirann followed, more curious than anything now. The man walked with a measured, but purposeful step. The whole way he spoke in his cultured voice, promising the monk, again, whatever he wished. The Sun Soul monk knew something had changed, knew that this was different than what his friends must have been going through. The man even admitted it.

"Your people are waiting for you at the end," the man said. "I am sorry to say that one of them failed their test. The others passed, and are a credit to you as companions."

"Are they okay?" Kirann asked.

The man nodded, "Yes, all were healed, but the one that failed. He was left with his wounds, to learn from. None of the tests were ever meant to be fatal, even to the evilest of people. Send them packing, and rethinking their life choices, yes."

The man turned to Kirann, but before he could speak, a fireball hit him in the back. Kirann caught the man, and rolled them both to the side. Another fireball hit where the man had been. The man still lived, but Kirann knew that wouldn't continue if their attacker kept hurling attacks at them. He was up, sending out a blast of energy where the fireball had come from.

"You are quick," a new voice said. "I guess we can talk now that the old man is taken care of."

The person the voice belonged to was a red skinned man, dressed in a manner Kirann had never seen before. Gray slacks were matched to what looked like a short robe, and there was a white tunic underneath it. The thing's shoes were solid black, and looked to be made of expensive, shiny leather. His hair was also a deep shade of crimson, probably a devil or outsider.

"You will be stopped," Kirann prepared another of his sun blasts.

The devil smiled, "Now, it would be a shame if the old man was to be hurt further. Just hear me out, I came to talk to you. He was just something that got in the way, couldn't allow him to interrupt. He seems to be busy at the moment, so we have some time."

"Speak your peace, and then leave," Kirann said, relaxing, but his power still called to his fists.

The devil nodded, "They did say you'd be reasonable. You can call me, Nihlus. You are Kirann Lichtus, Sun Warrior of the Sun Soul Monks, and a royal pain in the ass."

Kirann moved to a better position, "You're wasting time."

The devil, Nihlus sighed, "Why is it that there are only two gears with you mortals? I mean you're either fawning over me for power, or threatening me with self-righteous indignation. It really is really tiresome."

The monk was in a good position to strike, and Nihlus must have realized this, as he flew off. He landed a few feet away, again in a position to attack the other man. The threat was still held, but he realized he had to keep an eye on this monk. That should have been evident when his boss had sent him. It was just hard to think of them as threats, as most mortals were easy to mold and corrupt to his ways.

"Very well," Nihlus put a hand out. "I bring a message from the Asmodeus. A mutual acquaintance wants you rubbed out. However, my liege sees great promise in you. Join with him, and he'll protect you from this acquaintance.

Now, don't look at me like that, I fully realize that you don't trust him or I. My lord isn't doing this for any altruistic reasons, he expects you to provide something in return. However, he is willing to work with your 'morality.' Just saying that makes me sick. Don't think for one moment, that this isn't a great honor bestowed upon you."

"Need to do better, devil," Kirann said, his gaze penetrating Nihlus and sensing him to his core. "Your intentions aren't pure. You seek to corrupt my soul."

"Really?! This is how you react to this most generous offer?" Nihlus scowled. "I'm not asking you to sacrifice babies, or eat the flesh of people. The most you'd do is take down my liege's enemies, destroy demons and devils."

Kirann shook his head, "It starts like that. Then it becomes more, the targets not so clear cut. One day I awake, and I am that which I hate. With respect, take my answer to your lord. Honorably, and respectfully, I decline."

"You insolent dumbass!" Nihlus growled. "You want to do this the hard way, fine! You will kneel before Asmodeus, even if you have to kneel before me first!"

Nihlus waved his hand and an army of demons appeared. Every shape, size and type was on display. Upon seeing the Aasimar monk, they instantly charged. A thousand demonic voices cried out in glee, anticipating tearing into holy flesh. Behind them, Nihlus smiled, knowing he would be successful. That is why Asmodeus sent him, he got results.

The Sun Soul Monk reacted. For years he had trained to hone his mind, body and spirit into one. All his travels had made him stronger, faster, and more powerful. Even with all that, he was sorely outmatched in his mortal form. Yet, if this was to be his final hour, he would go out taking Evil out of this world.

Sending out a blast of energy, Kirann didn't hold back. The blast blew through one demon and took out another behind it. He unleashed a radiant ball of light, and it landed with a massive explosion. Demon bodies launched into the air, most disintegrating as they hung in the air. Others fell upon their corrupted brethren aflame, and lit them with the holy fire. Scores of demons fell, clutching their burning bodies.

The first demon reached him, and Kirann reacted with supernature speed. The first demon had its head ripped off its shoulders, as his powerful kick hit it. He turned, bringing down his other leg in a savage kick. That demon fell to the ground, where the monk punched down and obliterated its head. Jumping back, he caught another demon with his feet, and he unleashed another sun bolt right into its chest.

More demons fell, but they stoon began to overwhelm the monk. He fought as only a legend could, but there were just too many demons for him to kill as quickly as needed. Still, even as terror threated to grip his heart, he pushed it down. Screaming, he unleashed another blast of energy. Three scores of demons fell immediately to ash, with more coming to replace them.

Kirann was tired, exhausted, but he knew that giving up was not an option. He looked for a way out, but this area was one not made for one such as him. The whole place was a creation, used to test those who came looking for rewards. He could only think that maybe the odd man would know how to get out.

Rushing over to the fallen man, he took several hits from several demons. The horde matched his change in direction, and as such he fought more. They fell, but he was feeling the fight. He held back one of his last gifts, just so he'd have it in reserve. He did send healing out to the other man, and used some to heal some of his own wounds.

Reaching the man, Kirann quickly asked, "We have to get out of here. Which way?"

The man sunk his head, "It is in the middle of that horde."

"Then we shall go there," he said.

Reaching into himself, Kirann pulled out his last gift. Golden dragon wings erupted from his back and he picked the other man up. Launching into the air, he sailed through the air. From his left hand, he sent blasts of sun energy into the demon horde. He held the other man tightly in his right hand, knowing he could only hold the flight for so long. His only hope was to hold it long enough to reach the exit.

Nihlus was caught between begrudging respect and outright hatred. The Aasimar should be before him, battered, beaten and begging for his pitiful life. Instead scores of demons were dead, not much of a loss there, and the monk was rushing for the exit. Well there were ways of taking care of that.

He prepared a deadly spell, aimed it and was readying to let it go when the devil was thrown back. Nihlus barely managed to roll, as a blazing foot of pure light came down where he had been. Standing, the devil was immediately hit with what felt like a thousand punches. Each one hit Nihlus like a sledgehammer, but hurt as if each blow was from a holy weapon.

Kirann knocked another demon to the ground, its head dissolving as it fell. His golden dragon wings still pulsed with holy light. A roundhouse destroyed another demon, as he pulled out another ball of explosive light. It gave him just a few seconds of relief, but just enough for him to catch a breath. As the next demon came at him, the monk was ready.

However, two beings of pure light came into being. One attacked the devil and the demons near the devil. The second, a female form, started to emit a heavenly song. Both figures had wings, the male's looked like his, while the female's looked more like bat wings. Her voice was familiar, but Kirann would have to worry about that later. Even with her help, they were outnumbered.

Both golden forms though began to pulse blessed light, reinvigorating Kirann and healing the man he had been helping along. It also started to destroy the demons, and they began to back off. They formed a circle around the monk, the man and the two beings of light. Nihlus had disappeared, but Kirann was sure that wasn't going to be last he would see of the devil. Eventually a hole in the fabric of the realm opened and the demons were sucked back in, kicking and screaming.

The monk turned to get a better look at the woman, but both luminous beings were gone. Instead the man who had been guiding him was the only one left. The man looked relieved, and Kirann guessed he could understand why. That should have been the end of both of them. Instead they were still alive, well now he had to figure out if the man was alive. Was he a construct or a soul tethered to this place.

The man seemed to have read his mind, "I am a soul, who volunteered to stay and test those who come. Now, I think it is time you get what you came fore, before anyone else drops in."

"It shouldn't have been that easy to pierce into this place," Kirann managed as the adrenaline began to leave him. He felt very, very tired.

The man agreed, "It is extremely hard, almost impossible. Whomever is after you, really wants you, alive or dead. However, here is what you need. Use them, you'll know when."

The man handed Kirann two golden apples, two vials of an amber liquid and two paper packaged bundles. Kirann took them, hesitantly, not sure what to make of these gifts. The man smiled, once again with that look of not reverence but confusion. He motioned for the monk to put them into his pack. Kirann complied, waiting for an explanation.

"Listen closely sun warrior," the man said. "Two of these you need to take, three you'll share, and one will be given to one you find worthy.

The first is the Apples of the World Tree. To the North, they believe all the world is on the branches of a giant tree. From that tree, these apples came. Great power comes to those who consume them, and limited to Gods like Odin and Thor.

The second are Elixirs of Immortality. Far to the East alchemists found the secret to eternal life. The secret sadly had been lost, but some vials remain.

The last is the food of the ancient gods, sometimes called Ambrosia. You must use them, because it is your destiny. I fear to tell you much more, as it can change things. Just know that I don't give these out to just anyone."

"I am not worthy of these, I am just a man," Kirann tried to reach back into the pack, and return the gifts.

The man put a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder, "No. Not only would you dishonor me, and insult my people, but you are wrong. You are humble, and you are brave. That will have to do for the job before you. Go now, before they come back."

Kirann turned to leave and he caught sight of Raven. She looked tired, but unharmed, mostly. She showed signs of having exerted, and considering what he had been through, battle was probable. It did him good to see her though, and he let a smile cross his features.

"Looks like you did well," Kirann said. "I'll be done in a moment."

He stepped into the portal the man had been directing him to. He returned to his companions, beside him Raven materialized. They were both successful in their tests, and he pulled her to him. Having fought for his life, he was glad just to be able to hold her in his arms again. The world could wait just a moment more, he was going to enjoy this temporary respite. He had a feeling, things were about to get more complicated than any of the Challengers could imagine.


	51. Chapter 51

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part LI

The final act for the chase began with a beautiful morning sunrise. Raven rose early to find Kirann sitting on a boulder meditating. Walton was cooking up breakfast, while Daggarth looked at the food with disinterest. He was still stinging from his defeat in the ruins. The others were readying the camp to break for the day, they had a long day of traveling ahead.

Like many sunrises this one lit the world up, chasing away the shadows. Those who dwelt in the dark scurried off to their holes, caves and other unilluminated areas. It bathed everything in light, bringing hope to all those it touched. Good and Evil, Darkness and Light, a balance beyond history. Destruction and Creation, set before the world was new, and yet reinvented with each generation.

Kirann's eyes opened, glowing brightly, "It is time, they are close."

He hopped off the boulder, landing as gently as a feather falling to the ground. Around him the rest of the Challengers erupted into hurried movements. The time had come, and they were ready. No doubt was left for them, the outcome of the day was assured to them. Each had been tested, now it was time to bring their newfound gifts to bear.

Off in the distance, not aware of how close they are, the Masters of Horus move. They are fleet of foot, a side effect of their history of being sell swords. All but one of them now, reduced to a lumbering, never tiring golem. Poacher was in misery, having taken the body of a thing against his will. The Pied Piper traveled with them, the eyes for Manheim, who was a few strides behind.

He was preparing a ritual, none of the others knew it. Pied Piper may have guessed it, but his lust for vengeance against Kirann was too great. His only goal was to destroy the Aasimar monk, and he'd sacrifice everything to do that. Manheim was willing to let him, for his goal was power beyond his reach. Not only the power of Life and Death, but to remake things the way he wanted. To bend the world to his will, and finally for his true genius to be appreciated. Not a single force in this world or the next would be beyond his reach.

In the mountains, there was a plain. A simple unadorned, uncivilized stretch of land with no trees or mountainous terrain. All across the world of Faerun, there were others like it. Each was a simple, untouched piece of nature. People around them either stayed away, wary of the primal energy around them, or revered them. Beyond the years, since beginning, Elf, Dwarf and then Humans all reverently watched over these pristine plains.

The nearby mountain village held a tavern, a quaint and modest one. It didn't have the line of food or alcohol that others did, but it was a good place to get some food, wet the whistle. The workers from the nearby mine stopped in every day at the same time, six o'clock in the evening. They would raise a pint or two with the few farmers in the village, before heading home.

A newcomer had been around lately, drinking away and spending his days holed up in his rented room. The room rates were so small, that he could live awhile here, just on the savings from his adventures. At least what remained of them, what he hadn't used up in his travels here. Some of his coin had been replenished when a few Orcs came by, to which he ran them off.

The pay wasn't great, but good enough to live off in this town. It was a nice place to disappear, to never be seen again. The mountains reminded him of home, and he'd even scouted out to see if there were some old tunnels. There weren't, his people hadn't gotten this far then. That was both a relief and a depressing thought. He couldn't find comfort or camaraderie with those like himself, with other Dwarves.

Boris took another swig of his tankard, letting the loneliness wash over him. He deserved this fate, he had failed his wife and then had failed his friends. At least he had failed Walton and Kirann. The others were either monsters, evil assholes or like Manheim. The wizard had used him, deceived him and then laughed at him when he tried to fight back. The accursed finger wagger had even dominated his mind, using Boris like a marionette. That was when the Dwarf realized his mistake.

He used to have a clan, but he had lost that. He had been part of a party, but he had lost that too. He had a wife at one time, but she was killed. He used to have a life, that was destroyed. Some of it was beyond his control, the rest of it, not so much. At least here, nobody knew him and maybe he could rebuild his life to mean something again. Boris didn't hold his breath, his life was never easy.

"You okay there, Boris?" Leela, the tavern wench called out as she cleaned up the bar around him. "Lookin' a little sad, honey."

"Nothin' Darlin'," Boris said as he drained the last of his tankard.

Leela gave him a look that said she didn't believe him, "Well some of our farmers have been talkin' about some ne'er do wells about. Mind taking a look? Boss says he can pay you, and you'll get some free drinks out of the deal."

"Aye, I'll take a look," Boris said, reaching for his weapon. "Probably just some goblins anyway."

He left with his axe and shield, heading towards the pass leading to the mines and mountain tops. The clean, crisp mountain air filling his lungs. A memory of living with the Battlehammers popped back up, but he pushed it back down. That was in the past, a place he could no longer return to. However, the past was about to catch up to him, in a big way.

Behind him, he hard the clip clop of horse hooves hitting the road. Behind it was the ever so slight sound of wagon wheels turning. Not too unusual for the area, where most of the produce and minerals were brought to town by carts and wagons. He turned, expecting to see a friendly face come into town. Instead he nearly lost control of his legs and the axe in his main hand.

Like an avenging angel to punish him, Boris recognized Kirann the Sun Soul Monk. He lost all motion forward, and words completely left the Dwarf. The monk pulled his group into a protected alcove and jumped off. With him was a blue skinned barbarian, that Boris had never met, and Lorinda was missing. He recognized Raven, though she carried a guitar with her sword now. His guttural reaction to her was muted compared to when he saw Leilani. He nearly bolted right at her, axe ready for a deadly blow. However, he found himself stopped and when he looked, he saw why.

Kirann saw him, with that, all will left the Dwarf fighter. Pain resurfaced, horror at what he had done, and most of all, regret at believing what Manheim had said about the Aasimar monk. Quickly, way too quickly, the monk was upon him. Boris expected pain to come before he was released of his mortal coil. He knew he deserved whatever Kirann did to him. After a few moments, he looked up to see he was still alive.

"Long time, Boris," Kirann said. Eyes were set on the Dwarf, keeping him in sight, and the holes those eyes bored through Boris, should have killed him instantly.

Boris managed to speak, "Apologies, Kirann, I made a mistake. It doesn't change what I did, but I regret it anyways."

"Later then," Kirann said. "This town is in danger. Are you going to try to kill my people?"

"Whatcha talkin' about?" Boris began to look around, immediately the news of what Leela had told him took an ominous turn.

"A band we've been hunting," Kirann explained. "They are depraved, and will run amok on this village. Get everyone to shelter."

"I'm fightin' then!" Boris exclained, but suddenly felt his blood drain as the monk's eyes upon him.

Kirann took a step forward, "Attack anyone, look at my people wrong, and I will stop you."

With that the monk walked off, shouting orders out to the rest of the Challengers. Boris felt both relieved to be out of the monk's sight, but also the fervent need for a drink, hell a bloody keg even. Whether or not Kirann had always had that look about him, or the Dwarf's conscience was getting to him, he'd not soon forget that penetrating gaze. He ran off to do what he had been told, legs not fully recovered yet.

While the small mountain village prepared, The Masters of Horus marched toward their destination. Normally Poacher would have been ahead scouting, but thanks to his body swap, he was a lumbering, noisy thing. Each footfall was the sound of a small band moving about. Even when he tried to walk silently, his footfalls echoed off the mountainous terrain. That left Necro to use his familiar to scout about.

Poacher hated the floating skull headed imp. The way it flew about, laughing maniacally at Poacher, made the sentient golem want to smash it to mushy bits. He couldn't though, the damned thing was protected by the same spell as Necro. So much as a step in the wrong direction and Poacher would be leveled to the ground, in agonizing pain.

Manheim stayed in the rears, using Poacher and Furie as shields. Neagan and The Pied Piper led forward, looking forward to getting the job done. They were also looking to spill some blood, as it had been a while since they had battled. For Neagan, it was to recapture his sense of invulnerability. Ever since fighting against the Challengers, he had known something that he hadn't felt in quite some time. Fear had pervaded his thoughts, especially after what happened to his brother.

Looking at the lumbering monster, that held his brother's soul, he felt a chill run down his spine. Was this his fate as well, to be reused in such a way, if he fell. He was glad to still have his brother, but he seemed lesser. There used to be a glint in Poacher's eyes, usually after he fed his dark desires, but now all he saw was pain. Even for someone like Neagan, this fate of his brother was beyond his most horrible dreams.

As they approached the village that led to the sacred area, something was off. Manheim needed the sacred area for his dark ritual, and the wizard figured that would draw out the Challengers. If the stillness in the air was an indication, they might have succeeded. The area was too quiet, the wildlife had vanished. The wind had seemed to die, and an oppressive feeling came over Neagan.

He had a sense an attack was coming, so he pulled his weapon. Looking around, scanning the surrounding grounds. Scanning each and every shadow for an attack to come. A rogue could seemingly materialize out of thin air, and the Challengers had one. The sorceress with them was dangerous as well, and he now felt tremendously exposed. Not only could she throw fireballs, but she favored attacking smartly.

Neagan heard a whistle and he dropped into a crouch, only for Ripper to laugh heartily at him. The Half-Orc barbarian leveled a blow for the fighter, only for Manheim to call them off. The wizard walked past them with his nose held up firmly in the air. The evil barbarian considered knocking the wizard down a peg, but thought better of it. He may have not liked the wizard, but he respected what his knowledge could do.

"Masters of Horus!" Kirann's voice rang out. "You're reign of terror ends here!"

Neagan barely held The Pied Piper back, while the rest of the party formed up around him. Manheim readied a spell, but jumped as a blast energy erupted by his foot. Looking up, Raven smiled, a wand in her hand. Leilani appeared beside her, flames and lightning rolling over her hands. A war cry nearly shook the other Masters of Horus, as Daggarth stepped forward, his axe raised to the sky.

"So, it begins," Manheim whispered, suddenly not feeling very powerful.


	52. Chapter 52

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part LII

Neagan barely held The Pied Piper back, while the rest of the party formed up around him. Manheim readied a spell, but jumped as a blast energy erupted by his foot. Looking up, Raven smiled, a wand in her hand. Leilani appeared beside her, flames and lightning rolling over her hands. A war cry nearly shook the other Masters of Horus, as Daggarth stepped forward, his axe raised to the sky.

"So, it begins," Manheim whispered, suddenly not feeling very powerful.

So it did, with thunder and lightning, flashes of light and fire. The Challengers and Masters of Horus came at each other like Titans and Olympians clashing, for control of the world. Between them the ground shook, the air trembled and two forces met to split the sky with might and magic.

Manheim dodged as a solar bolt nearly melted his face. Instead Poacher took the direct brunt, and even the golem's unfeeling body produced a scream of pain. The wizard shot out a magic missile, and it glanced of a frothing mad Dwarf's shield. Boris felt his shield arm be flung back, but his momentum carried him forward. He landed with a grunt and brought his axe down. Ripper parried the blow, but got a good shield smack to his face for his trouble.

Daggarth roared a mighty war cry, stepping forward to challenge any who would oppose him. Neagan rushed to do so, battle lust already taking him. Beside him the Pied Piper zipped toward his hated enemy, a song of madness on his lips. Incomprehensible, jarring, and chaotic the song alternated between giving his party strength and driving them to madness. That same madness flickered in his eyes like a blazing candle.

Raven brought her blade down, nearly splitting his face into two. He howled, and back handed her. Rolling with it, she only got a flare of pain from her cheek. Narrowing her eyes, she let out an ear-piercing shriek. Immediately she struck back hard. Her boot found his ruined face, and blood flew through the air as his head was thrown back. Poacher rumbled forward, raising his massive hands to crush the puny things before him.

Furie brought forth her powers, while Necro cast a spell to raise a dead minion. Ravisher stalked silently from the shadows, looking for his target. Finding her, he pulled his dagger out. His mind was already jumping ahead to the ecstasy of plunging his blade into the lithe elven form. He licked his lips in evil desire and leapt forward. His dagger was poised in perfect alignment, flashes of seconds and he would bury it into her. He would taste her blood, and maybe more.

Imagine his surprise when Leilani turned and let a blast of fire right into his face. The Drow sorceress grinned like a satiated cat as the rogue rolled on the ground, screaming as he tried to put the flames out. He rose, fury behind his now savagely burned face, pieces of bone peaking through. She decided to end his suffering, letting a blast of magical energy take his head from his shoulders.

Necro sent his three risen undead, one skeleton and two decaying zombies, towards the distracted sorceress. He also let go a magic missile spell, and looked at his next prepared spell, a noxious cloud. He saw the Drow pull her weapon and slice into one zombie, and felt the skeleton's bony finger dig into her shoulder. She cried out in pain as undead teeth came towards her neck.

A brilliant flash of light, and the undead scattered in a soundless scream. They fled before Walton's holy aura. Necro called out a few colorful epithets at the holy warrior, and threw his prepared noxious cloud spell. He felt a sharp, hot pain in his side, and he saw the spell land in the direction Manheim had commanded them to go. He reached to his side, where his hand came back up bathed in blood. Looking up, he saw a dark form that was the perfect balance of Human and Elf.

Val launcher herself up, throwing two small knives. One embedded itself into Necro's eye, the other into the soft part of his inner thigh. More blood fell, and Necro reached into his robes, reaching for a prepared phylactery. Made for just this contingency, with the knowledge it was his way to cheat death of its prize. Finding it hard to concentrate, he began to change the spell that would transfer his essence into the phylactery and remake his body into that of a pseudo-lich.

It would last him till he could complete the full ritual, and become a full fledged lich. From the outskirts, Manheim saw the Dwarf necromancer blast apart into ashes. He flung another spell, and saw the Dwarf, Boris fall to one knee. Neagan threw Daggarth hard, and the barbarian bounced off the ground hard. Still his grip on the axe never wavered, as he tried to make it to his feet. Neagan brought a huge foot down on the other barbarian's back. Daggarth screamed as he felt something pop.

Fear raced through his mind as he saw Neagan raised his foot again, and then light, glorious light sent the Half-Orc back. Kirann was a blur of motion, his ki induced blows sending Neagan stumbling back. Poacher, seeing his brother in trouble rushed toward him, knocking fighters on both sides down. Moving as fast as his golem body would go, he raised his fist to smash the puny glowing man. Instead his word was turned horizontal and found himself staring up at the sky.

Kirann smashed heel into the golem's face, shattering the material making up the once Half-Orc ranger. Poacher felt himself falling away from the golem body, and hope came flooding back in. He could die! He could be freed from this monstrous prison, and he let his guard fall. So ready to end the suffering, he was eagerly waited for the killing blow. It never did.

Instead, Neagan rushed at the Aasimar monk. Meanwhile the Pied Piper stumbled from the massive wounds and previous ones inflicted upon him. Gone was his voice, his hands could no longer play an instrument and his movements were sluggish. Half of his face flopped down from his skull. His Tiefling opponent waited patiently, her own wounds superficial. He wanted to scream, but a cut to his throat only allowed him a sickening gasp.

Ripper pounded on the Dwarf. Boris held his shield up, and yet still felt every blow like it was a dragon smashing into him. He heard his arm snap and pain washed through every nerve in his body. He howled in pain, trying to roll away, and was rewarded with a massive kick to his ribs. More snapping and Boris curled up into a ball, only for another mace strike to bounce off his back. His whole world was nothing but pain.

Zealot locked blades with Walton, fallen paladin versus paladin. The two men sized each other up, dancing around in an effort to gain advantage over the other. Walton swung out, and Zealot parried, he counterattacked only for the other man to push him back. They were evenly matched, so they both called upon their abilities. Walton's holy aura lighting up the area, while Zealot's darkness oozed out of him. Light and Dark, Good and Evil, balanced between them, and only skill would decide this outcome.

Furie found herself dodging a fireball attack. Turning to face the sorceress, she didn't see the rogue come up from behind. Instead the world tuned black as something crashed into her skull. Fighting against losing consciousness, she fought back, only for strong hands to pull her head up. Then her head smashed into the ground again, and this time she lost her fight. The shaman of the Masters of Horus was now at the mercy of the Challengers.

Daggarth was moving, barely. He shuffled, but he could still feel his limbs. After the massive blow from the other barbarian, he had thought he was paralyzed. Instead warm light washed over him, and he found himself mobile. Kirann had Neagan under control, so instead he went to help the Dwarf the others called Boris. The fighter was being mercilessly beaten by an Orc. This he could deal with. Raising up his axe, Daggarth acted.

Boris watched with incredulity as the Orc attacking him stopped suddenly. A surprised look came over the Orc, and then every muscle in his body went limp. Ripper fell to the ground like a boneless mass of flesh. What light had been in such an evil person, had faded to darkness. Boris looked form the dead Orc, to the barbarian pulling his axe from the fighter's split skull.

"Come, Dwarf," Daggarth said. "Let's get you out of here. There is little we can add to the fight now."

Manheim ran, he needed to get space for the next part of this. He hadn't expected the Masters of Horus to fall so quickly. Even Pied Piper had failed his expectations. The Fallen Aasimar bard was slowly dying, his blood seeping out from dozens of wounds. His opponent looked worn out, but not out of the fight by any means. No, it was time for Manheim to pull out his ace card. He had just hoped to be closer to his goal.

Poacher moved, with every step feeling like his spirit was leaking away. It was odd for him to feel such joy at the possibility of ending. However, he would soon be free from this horrid prison. He only found himself clinging long enough to draw the monk's attention, hoping to do two things with one act. His brother needed to survive, and he needed the monk to break this infernal body. He lumbered forward; hands raised to deliver a killing blow he knew would get the Aasimar's attention.

It did, Kirann felt the ground pounding and pulled his ki into a massive blast. Turning from Neagan, he let the ki flow through a massive blast of sun energy. Focused like water through a small opening, the blast hit and bore through Poacher's golem body. The blast nearly tore him apart, and poacher felt himself fall to his knees. He felt his spirit being rapidly released from the golem body and if he could have cried, he would have. He would be free!

That was when he heard his brother scream, saw him rush the monk and that was when Kirann attacked again. Poacher was impressed by the rapidity of the monk's movement, his ability to change targets lightning quick. However, what he heard next caused his soul to scream out in terror.

The monk snapped a savage kick, it connected with the rushing barbarian's meeting place, between neck and skull. Instantly his windpipe was crushed in, and Neagan couldn't take in a breath. He didn't suffer long, as he felt something pop under his skull. His pain instantly went away, and Neagan realized he couldn't feel his limbs any longer.

Curiously he saw his brother rising up from the golem body. Neagan watched as his brother scooped him up, back in his body. Before them flashed their whole lives. Every evil, dirty deed was shown before them, as they slowly began to fade from this world. They saw the hurt they had perpetrated upon their victims. Each one brought out to bring their accusations against the brothers. Finally, a friendly, but not very bright Ice Giant came forth, pointing accusingly at the brothers for what they had done.

Zealot was too busy fighting for his life to notice Neagan die. Instead he felt his limbs begin to drag, his dark power being thrown back by Walton's holy aura. He knew the battle had shifted, and not into his favor. The other Challengers were either coming to assist Walton, or were tending to the wounded. Knowledge that his companions were gone, meant it was time for him to save his own ass.

He didn't make it far, as every remaining Challenger was there waiting on him. Thinking to scare them off, he swung his sword. Then he stopped, stunned and unable to move. His eyes rolled up into his head, and his body fell forward. Behind him, Walton pulled back his sword, sighing in relief. He had hoped that the flat edge of his sword would be enough to knock the other man out. Every fiber of his being called for the man to be judged for his crimes here and now, but it would be a small justice. Instead he would be tried for his crimes, and would receive the judgement for his many crimes against all the peoples of the realm.


	53. Chapter 53

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part LIII

Manheim was stumbling, over rocks, over his own feet, and especially over his robes. He grabbed hurriedly at the amulet around his neck. Nearly tearing it off as he yanked it out. Fear fueling his rapidity and lack of coordination. Behind him, he could almost hear the Aasimar and Tiefling behind him, ready to end him. The Masters of Horus had failed him, spectacularly.

He chanted the spell needed, having to restart several times as he messed up the pronunciation. Still a small cloud erupted from the amulet, slowly transforming into the feminine devil form of Malena. Her look was one of curiousness and resigned expectation of the wizard's failure. Not that the new was any better, if only those idiots had been better.

"Let me guess, something went wrong?" Malena only partially asked.

"He is here, you must kill him!" Manheim groaned. "This is your chance, a chance to kill one with celestial blood."

"Whoopidoo!" the devil growled through the amulet. "How an idiot like you grew in such power is beyond me."

Manheim grew very stern, extremely quickly, "Just because I'm surrounded by incompetence, does not make me an idiot, Malagoranalenorazilymena. I command you to come to this plane and make the Challengers a greasy spot on the ground!"

The devil's voice screeched through the amulet as she was painfully ripped into the plane of Faerun. Her screams echoed across the mountains and chilled the bones in the town. Meanwhile her deceptively beautiful frame was shredded apart and remade into her true, horrendous devilish form. She rose to her towering eight foot tall height, murder in her eyes. Yet, despite her will, she snapped her fingers, creating hellish portals of fire and brimstone.

"I will enjoy ripping your soul shreds, mortal," Malena hissed between clenched teeth.

Instead the wizard smiled broadly, "You underestimated me, everyone underestimated me. You see a frail man, but my mind is my strength. My will, my blade, and my knowledge the key to victory.

Finding your true name was just a matter of looking in the right place. See, you won't get one over me, nobody will ever again. Now you serve me, and if you don't like it, tough shit."

The devil growled, and stomped off. Through the brimstone portals demons came, ones at twos at first, but exponentially increasing. Soon scores and more were pouring forth, filling the surrounding lands. Chaotic entities of pure hatred and malice, and other sinful emotions mortals were warned from. Monstrous demons of every size and shape, ones with blades for hands, and others with mouths filled with stinging beasts.

These were not the lawful devils, that followed rules or codes. Unadulterated evil incarnate, they were primal beings of all that was wrong and unholy in the Realms. Bringing this much Evil into the world would not go unnoticed, and Malena knew there would be backlash. She only had to squish one powerful mortal under her boot, and then figure out how her revenge on Manheim.

The Challengers, minus Daggarth and Boris, were in hot pursuit of the rogue wizard, when they came to a screeching halt. Before them was an army of demons, with several larger demons asking as lieutenants, and one ugly massive devil leading them. At the sight of them, the demons rushed forward, and the heroes had just a few seconds to decide their own fates.

"Run, get back to town and evacuate them," Kirann said.

Walton shook his head, "That army would overwhelm them, there isn't enough time."

"There are too many," Val said. "Can we win?"

Raven knew the answer, "The only way to win is to prevent them from winning."

"Then I guess it's time to see how well demons melt!" Leilani felt her power rising inside to dangerous levels. "Lead on Kirann, we are with you till the end."

"By Tyr's might, we will make these demons fear our names!" Walton raised his sword, golden light gleaming off of it.

Raven turned, giving Kirann a mischievous smile, "Once more into the breach, my love?"

Kirann nodded, light blazing behind his eyes, making them glow like mini suns. Golden dragon wings of pure light erupted from his back and he launched into the air. His fists glowed with fiery light, and lightning began to flash around him, forking from the sky. His voice boomed, causing even those back in town to tremble at its power.

"Challengers, today we make our destiny! Attack!" the power behind it caused the demons to stagger for the briefest of moments.

An army of demons enveloped the brave heroes. The battle was intense, with steel and magic meeting claw and unholy might. Flashes of fire, light and eruptions rumbled across the area. Reverberations beat upon the buildings of the town, with the townspeople praying to the gods for salvation. Beside them, a wounded Dwarf and a battered Half Ice Giant barbarian picked up their weapons.

Walton sliced through a small imp, followed through to open up the face of a larger demon attempting to jump him from behind. Another managed to hit him, but by Tyr's might he slammed the demon into the ground. Smashing his foot into the thing's neck, he was rewarded with a neck snap that would haunt his dreams for years to come. He looked up to see another readying to hit him hard, and he prepared.

Luckily, Val jumped on its back, stabbing two daggers into its back and riding around on its back. She controlled the thing by jerking her daggers in different directions. The thing ran at a bigger demon, expecting to throw her off. Instead she leapt off, before disemboweling a human sized demon. It looked surprised as she sheathed her daggers and pulled out her short swords. One swipe later, a demon head rolled around on the ground.

Before any of the demons could attack her, a blistering ball of fire threw most into the air. Leilani threw a lightning bolt to follow it, sending several demons jerking to the ground as they were destroyed. A bolt of hellfire came at her, and the Drow sorceress barely dodged it. Pulling out her weapon, she slammed it into a rushing demon. She felt it crack through the outer skeleton of the demon, and suddenly saw a fast glowing light. Wrapping her cloak around her, she just managed to protect herself as the demon exploded.

Launched across the field, she hit the ground hard, and struggled to get breath back into her body. She went for her feet, only to find that she need not worry. Both Raven and Kirann intercepted demons heading for her. Kirann's savage blow took out a massive, bulky, seven foot tall, heavily muscled demon. It fell to the ground boneless, its eyes empty black as it landed.

Beside his gleaming wings, Raven slashed the clawed hand of a demon clean off. She let out a battle ode, making other demons howl in pain. She followed this up with beheading another, and being knocked over as another came up from behind her. Kirann reacted by sending a devastating kick to that demon, and it dematerialized in a scream as golden light flowed over it.

Walton and Val rejoined the others and more demons fell. Scores fell, but even these still caused damaged to our heroes. Fresh wounds poured life blood onto the ground below them. Strength began to flag as their wounds started to add up, and mortal might was soon being pushed back by overwhelming numbers. Yet, they still fought with everything they had, as such legends were born.

Val stumbled, pain filled her body and it was bad enough for tears to fall from her face. Her left arm wasn't working as it should, probably dislocated. Walton was only being held up by his intense faith, and inability to know how close to death he was. Leilani moved slowly, but was still in good fighting shape. Only Kirann and Raven, though battered, were still in the best shape of them all.

"Leilani, get them back to town, we'll hold them off," Kirann said.

The Drow sorceress began to object when Raven stopped her, "Go on, you guys have given it your all."

"What about you?" Val asked, barely able to keep her head up. "We won't leave you!"

Leilani felt her spirit fall, "I can't leave you here to die. You're the only family I have left."

"These family members need you to save them," Kirann said. He sent a blast into the middle of the demons, sending blinding light to obliterate many in their numbers. "Go, now. It has been an honor."

Leilani turned, holding back the tears that were set to fall from her face. She didn't want the last thing Kirann and Raven to see, was her bawling. Their sacrifice deserved better, they deserved to see their bravery mirrored. So, despite herself, she drug Val and Walton away. They fought back, demanding to remain, but they were so weak, she was easily able to remove them from the battlefield.

At a blistering pace, two figures jetted past the Drow. One was light blue skinned and the other was a Dwarf. She recognized them, and almost turned back. However, she knew that if she did, Val and Walton would probably perish. It would dishonor the sacrifice the monk and bard were making, for them to die. No, she would make sure they got to safety, then she would return to fight beside her family.

Tiefling and Aasimar, born of worlds that should have made them enemies, fighting beside each other as one. One could make the case that love bound them, love of family, friends, and of each other. They wouldn't be wrong, but the true wording for what bound them was beyond simple words. One could spend a lifetime fitting the sounds of harmony, brotherhood and pure goodness and still not get close to what bound them. Only the language of the heart could describe it, and their hearts sung it to the heavens.

Though many demons had been destroyed, multitudes more remained. This was a losing battle, one that no mortal could win. Unless a higher power, or a deity intervened, these two would end their story in glorious battle. Even as a Dwarf fighter and Half Ice Giant Barbarian jumped into the fray, the odds were against them.

"Tell me, Kirann," Raven huffed as she dispatched another demon. "Was this how you saw your end?"

"Fighting indomitable odds, with you by my side?" he asked, a smile on his face. "I can think of no finer end. I'm just sorry that you didn't get to experience more of the world."

"Are you kidding?!" she shot back. "We have traveled the continent, fought every enemy under the sun and, I found my place. I no longer feel scared, but powerful. I'm just sorry we never got to live our lives out."

"In every smile of yours, I have lived a lifetime of bliss," Kirann replied back. "Know that I love you, now and always."

He turned away, light nearly bursting from his pores and above him a golden figure started to appear. This was the same figure that Raven had seen multiple times since the fight in Altamar. Hope seemed to fight through her doubts, and for a brief moment she felt like everything would work out. Yet, somehow her heart began to weigh heavily, as if she was losing something.

The golden figure disappeared as another winged figure came into view. Resplendently armored and armed with a golden lance and sword, the angel, Alexael hovered in the air. Thrusting out his lance, beams of light shot out, destroying a score of demons in one shot. He slammed his lance into the ground and more demons were thrown into the air.

"You shall not harm them!" he bellowed out. "By all that is holy, this is where you stop!"

Al slammed his lance into the ground again and the horde disappeared, along with the devil, Malena and Al himself. Silence replaced the sounds of battle, and the abrupt halt was jarring for those involved in the battle. Manheim was thrown back, and he stared in horror as his demon army disappeared, leaving him along with the remains of the Challengers.

"Al!" Kirann called out as he saw his guide disappear.

He realized what the angel had done, had sacrificed himself to save Kirann. All his life, Al had watched out for him, had been there for him. Even as he had started to adventure, Al had always been there with a wise word, or counsel. He didn't always listen, and sometimes the advice, while wise, was not always the best. The monk had still valued that counsel, and valued the angel more. Like losing any teacher or mentor, it was devastating.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, "I'm so sorry, Kirann."

Raven meant to say more, but he just grabbed her in a tight hug. Later stories would paint them as a heroes of legend. His and Raven's defense becoming tales so unbelievable, that many would scoff at them as being fiction. Despite the legend he had become that day, in that moment he was a being who had lost someone important to him. A man whose mentor sacrificed all, to save him.

Daggarth meanwhile found the prone Manheim and buried his axe deep into the wizard's head. He didn't let him utter a spell, or grab for a wand. There was no honor in this death, such as the wizard deserved no honor. A hero like Kirann deserved to die on his feet, battle cry on his lips and retold by generations forevermore. Instead, the wizard would flitter out of the pages of history, a minor footnote in the history of two great heroes.


	54. Chapter 54

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part LIV

That night the Challengers were tended to by the town they had so valiantly defended. Kirann was quiet, and Raven worried after him. She played her guitar, but they were solemn songs. She wanted to be there for him, but didn't know how. For her, a lasting relationship like what he had with Al, was foreign. The closest to that type of relationship was with her former patron, and he was not an example of a healthy mentorship.

Walton was out of his armor, laying about with bandages carefully placed on his wounds. Val was wrapped up in a large blanket, sleeping peacefully as she recuperated. Meanwhile Daggarth drowned out his pain with multiple steins of beer, with Boris nearly drowning himself to keep up with the barbarian. That left the Drow sorceress, Leilani.

She was beyond exhausted, but would not lie down. She went between her friends, checking on them. Staggering, there was a couple of times she nearly tripped over her own feet. Yet, she would not forgo her watch over them. It took Kirann noticing her nearly falling, before she let someone guide her to a bed. Within minutes of being under covers, she had escaped to sleepy peace.

Though the inhabitants of the town were wary of the party, which included a Drow and Tiefling, they couldn't argue with what had happened. Instead they treated them like the heroes they were, and the next day as the sun rose, a great breakfast greeted the Challengers. Their horses fed and hitched up to the wagon. The town was grateful, but also eager to have the heroes move on. Trouble it seemed, followed them, and the inhabitants liked their peaceful lives.

They left by midday, headed towards Catonburrough, where they reported to the Mayor. The two captured members of the Masters of Horus were trussed up in the back of the wagon. This was not their stop though, as the Challengers were going to take them back to Altamar. The mayor of Catonburrough had no issue with that, as she was just glad they were going to face a lord's judgement. She did give the party a reward, small compared to some they had received in the past, but large to the small town.

The mayor also wouldn't let Kirann decline the reward, and stressed it would insult the town. So, he reluctantly took it, but it didn't escape notice he spread quite a bit of the wealth around town. From charity to the poor, purchasing travelling rations from multiple stores, to new, more formal clothes for each Challenger. By the time the group had left the town the following day, half of their reward was back in the hands of the people of Catonburrough.

Kirann did make a quick stop at the garden of the golem, and retrieved one of the trees there. The guardian of the garden was pleased, and sent seeds along with the tree. It only asked that the monk return one day to describe how his garden grew. That was an easy promise for him to make, and he waved at the golem as they rode off.

Before a week had elapsed, the Challengers had returned to Altamar. Their arrival heralded by the city's guard preparing a welcome. Monks from Kirann's monastery lined up behind the guards, bowed as he drove by them. Further in, Lorinda and several druids stood by the city's entrance, a beaming smile plastered across her face. Lastly, was the wizard, Bruce Robertson and Lord Wallace.

"Congratulations champions of Altamar," Lord Wallace moved toward the moving cart. "You have returned with the knaves, and victorious on the field of battle. Even now incredulous tales reach our fair city, of your exploits. We have feast prepared in your honor."

Kirann tried to smile, but still felt too much pain, "We are honored." Gesturing to the two prisoners, "These are the last two of the Masters of Horus. We relinquish them to your judgement."

"Captain Reynolds," Lord Wallace called out. "Take these two to their new residence. We begin their trial after other court business."

The captain of Altamar's forces gladly took custody of the Furie and Zealot. With a full company of soldiers, he escorted them to the dungeons. Lord Wallace and Wizard Robertson led the Challengers back to the castle, with the remaining guards breaking formation to return to their posts. All around them the residents of Altamar raised a great cheer, honoring them as returning heroes.

Days passed as the heroes recuperated, and recharged. Walton found himself spending time with Angelique, and things had become very serious. As a paladin still in service to Altamar, serving a sentence for crime he wasn't responsible for, he had to get permission for what he wanted to do next. Lord Wallace heartily agreed to the union between paladin and priestess. They were married immediately, Kirann acted as his best man, with another paladin of Tyr taking up duties as a groomsman.

As a reward for his actions, Lord Wallace gifted Walton a small fort on the border as his, when his sentence ended. He was to build up the fort, its forces and protect the villages nearby to it. He would be Lord and Commander, reporting directly to Lord Wallace. Angelique was given funds to set up a small church, or refurbish the current church, to that of one that worshipped Tyr. Her fellow priests and priestesses showered her with well wishes, while the newly married coupled retired to a private residence borrowed from a nobleman.

Lorinda reconnected with her friends, while Daggarth found the nearest tavern. Even after traveling with them for so long, he still didn't feel like one of them. No, he needed to return to his journey northward, back to his people. He did so with the knowledge that he had been changed, he wasn't the same person as before. Something had changed on the inside; one might even call it a humbleness had fallen over him. If someone like the monk could see the value in others beyond their people's notoriety, maybe he could too. It wasn't a guarantee, but he was willing to do better.

Master Ming-Fa visited with Kirann, and smiled as Raven tried to leave. She told the Tiefling to stay, and talked with her old student. The conversation was light, and was quite at ease. Eventually he told her of what happened to Al, and she listened, waiting for him to explain more. Raven felt her own heart breaking, hoping she could do something that would help him. Knowledge that she really couldn't, hurt her, but she remained to support him.

After Ming-Fa left, Kirann turned to Raven, "Thank you. You have done more than you realize."

"I wish I had words," she said softly. "I just don't know how to make it all better."

He smiled, "It isn't about making it better. Al's sacrifice hurts, but I know why he did it. Instead what I needed was someone to stand by me. You did this."

"To be fair, you've done your fair share of standing at my side, sticking up for me, and saving the world with nary a thought to your own happiness," Raven reminded him. "This was literally the least I could do for you."

"You are special," Kirann said. "For the rest of our lives, let me find out how special."

"Are you proposing?" Raven found herself caught off guard.

As if to answer, he dropped to one knee, "Yes."

Leilani snuggled up into her bed, the warm covers wrapped around her. Her sleep was restful and as she rested her spirit went out in search. Drawn to beautiful mountains, with great evergreen pines, golden dragons flew about. She felt amongst family, and accepted. Golden scales erupted from her ebon skin and horns sprouted from her had. Great wings lifted her body up, but her form did not change completely draconic. She still retained her Drow shape, but was more.

"Little one, you have done us proud out in the world," one massive golden dragon rumbled. "One day you may fully transform into one of us. Till that day, if you ever are in need, seek us out."

Val looked out over Altamar, perched high up in the wizard's tower. He had let her in, and she had found the highest place to look over the city. She was still bandaged from her wounds, but the healers couldn't keep her still for more than a second. In fact, from this vantage was the longest she had remained still since returning. Bruce Robertson kept an eye on her, a conjured familiar sticking around when he had other business to attend to.

The rogue felt at peace up here. From up here, the city was a beautiful quilt of twinkling light. She felt herself relax, and barely reacted when a warm blanket was draped over her. She did turn though, and the kindly wizard gave her a gentle look, before going back to his business. She spent several hours that night like that, before the wizard took her to a guest chamber. His familiar watched over her the rest of the night, even as he went to his own chambers.

The next day, Daggarth came before Lord Wallace with one request, passage northward. Lord Wallace agreed, having Captain Reynolds set it up with a ship captain friendly with the city. The barbarian was satisfied with this, and made a point to say his goodbyes to the other Challengers. He owed them that much, they had changed much for him in his short time with them.

"Monk," Daggarth said, feeling less than sure of himself. "I must find my people. I thank you for letting me travel with you."

"You are welcome to stay," Kirann said.

Val added in, "Who knows, we might be heading up that way next."

Daggarth smiled despite himself, "No, my way is clear to me now. I think it is time I rejoin my people. Know if you are ever near Icewind Dale, you have a friend nearby."

"Then go with honor, my friend," Kirann said, bowing slightly. "You are always welcome with us."

"Do you leave soon? Kirann and I would like you to attend something with us," Raven said, holding back her own grin.

The barbarian was curious now, "The lord here says the ship will be ready to sail in two weeks' time."

"Then travel with us at the Sun's Edge Monastery," Raven said.

Kirann held his hand out, "You are invited to celebrate with us. We are to be joined together in our journeys."

"I do not understand," the barbarian said.

"They're getting married!" squealed Val, the rogue sounding very much like the excited Maid of Honor she was.

Daggarth embraced the monk with a bearhug, "Of course! I would dare not miss it."

In a week's time all of the Challengers found themselves at the Sun's Edge Monastery. Each was dressed well for the occasion. Lorinda was dressed in fine robes, and wearing sacred ceremonial artifacts. She took her place behind Val, who was dressed in a resplendent dress. The Half-Elf looked absolutely stunning, and many heads were turned. Leilani completed out the last spot.

For Kirann, Walton stood as his best man. The wizard, Bruce was the first groomsmen and Daggarth stood in for the last. Captain Reynolds of Altamar prepared a full honor escort for them both, and stood in the back. He would protect them on this wonderful day.

In the audience, packing the huge temple with visitors. They came from Altamar, the Druid Enclave and the surrounding lands around. Everywhere the Challengers had touched, someone had come to pay their well wishes.

Master Ming-Wa Fa did the honors. Speaking of the nature of love and the paths we all take in our lives; she went on to talk about those who came together in this grand journey. The sermon went onto the nature of joining of two lives, and the blessings came with this. Under the Lord of Dawn, she pronounced this unlikely couple man and wife. Which is how Jessica "Raven" Umbra and Kirann Lichtus were bound in matrimony.

The celebration went through the whole night, and into the next day. It was a good time for all and one that everyone somehow knew couldn't last forever. Indeed, it did end, as lives had to continue onward. Still, these small things, mean quite a bit to those present. These were the good memories that are meant to be held onto as life goes on. A reminder that good things happen, as do bad things. In this case, an argument could be made that the good outweighed the bad.

If there was one thing constant, it was change. Just as strangers had become family, and then friends, things continued to evolve. What was to come, none knew, but they each felt hope for the future. Things were bright right now, even despite all that had happened, and who had been lost. How long things would stay this way, nobody could say. However, a message was about to come, and with it, the next part of the Challenger's story.


	55. Chapter 55

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part LV

Jaslyn the Succubus looked into the window of new life brought into the world. Little baby Kennison came with a surprise, a twin. She felt something small inside, something that hurt and elated at the same time. Boy and girl, two babies so small and weak. Yet, she could see their potential. Together they would be a force to be reckoned with, but it was also very, very wrong.

She had been wrong, having thought that the Kennison's had carried the Liberator. Yet, prophecy was very clear on this, the liberator was just one being. Everything led to the Kennisons as the source, their spawn to be this savior. If her research was wrong, what else had been wrong? It wasn't like she had done this alone, she had used scholars across the realm for this job.

She had been deceived, mislead and she wondered why? The answer was obvious of course. She had been an agent for Evil, and whomever was protecting the Liberator was obviously not above using deception. If her pride didn't sting so much, she would have been impressed. It wasn't easy to fool her, much less with the veracity to mislead her old boss.

Her minder nudged her forward. Though she had vowed, the wizard had rightly hadn't trusted her. Mortals were always surprised when a demon or devil found wiggle room in a deal, and for the first few days she had looked. However, the idea seemed to diminish over time.

Here she was relatively safe, and beyond advising the wizard, her duties were light. They gave her good food to eat, and when her urges became unbearable, wicked people to feed off of. In fact, she started to feel something that she really didn't expect. Jaslynn began to feel a connection to these people. Well, Lord Wallace, wizard Bruce and the rest of the castle staff. Even the holy priests and paladins that served as her guards and jailers.

She returned to her room in the castle, and back to her natural form. Her horn had regrown, but the stubs still itched as her wings had yet to regrow. She sat down, pulling a book off her bookshelf. This was a series of collected stories, gathered and reconstituted by a bard, using laborious, meticulous research. Strangely, she found them soothing, even though most were about the goodly races stopping those like her.

As she read, a single tear ran down her face. The story was of a hero leaving behind their loved one, to seal a great evil from the world. This evil was beyond the world known by all, and so alien to be unknowable. Greater than Evil, this thing, being, was so terrible and corrupted all that came in touch with it.

A blinding light appeared in her peripheral vision, and she launched herself up. Despite herself, she held the book behind her, protecting it. Before she would have chucked it at the intruder, before launching onto whomever was there. Instead, she held on tightly and the brightly glowing figure seemed curious. It, though it looked like a man, cocked its head before turning back to face her. Nodding, it winked out of existence, leaving her alone and confused.

She sat the book down, thinking of alerting the guards outside her chambers. Yet, something caught her eye. The text had changed in her book, something had been added to the end of the story. Jaslynn ran her finger across the new print, feeling heat still rising from the new print.

_**The Liberator reached across time and space, fought back the Eldritch horrors. Where the Eldritch Abominations corrupt all, the Liberator cleansed all. More than a deity, the Liberator was the opposite of these monsters, and with him was the Inspirer. Together they locked the unknowable things away. **_

Jaslynn felt something electric run up her spine, and felt the equivalent of gooseflesh. The new words, and this addition of this "Inspirer" added something that she was missing. As she looked further, there was one more clue that at first she had missed. She rushed to the door of her chambers, the book laying open. The new image was one of a winged figure locked in combat with a monstrous tentacled figure.

Kirann was in the middle of the universe again. The pulse of everything, the rhythm of creation playing in his head. Back with his body, his new wife practiced her music. Her form of the meditation he practiced. In her practice, her mind and soul saw the notes, and in each note a new world blossomed. Universes formed with each plucked string and voiced note. He was aware of her there, and of everything else as well.

He had hoped to find a small shred of information on Al. He couldn't believe his mentor was gone. He had thought that maybe the angel had been scattered across creation, and maybe he could help him reform. Yet, there was no sign of him, so Kirann searched onward through everything.

Raven's song poured through his meditation and the ripples moved across the universe. He saw the waves wrap around worlds, reflect off and be changed ever so slightly. It was in this that he found his answer. Watching her song wash over the worlds, he found one spot where they just simply disappeared.

He moved toward it, and as he got closer, he saw darkness with tiny specks of light erupting through. Camouflaged against the starfield, it was no wonder he hadn't been able to see it before. As he got closer, he could see movement inside the blackness. One lone warrior being set upon by a horde of nasty things, full of teeth and claws. Closer still, he recognized the warrior.

"Al!" he screamed.

The warrior slammed another dark form down, and looked up, "Kid, is that you?!"

"Let me help you," Kirann said, preparing himself to fight.

Al smiled, "You can't help me here, kid. Live your life, I'm not sure how long I can hold them. I'm sorry, but they will return again."

"How long?" Kirann asked, concern knitting his brow.

"A decade at best," Al said. "I know better than to tell you to stay away. I will beg you to not come back. This is a fight for the gods, not for mortals."

With a blast, Al sent Kirann back into his body and the monk cried out in surprise. Raven, beside him felt a power snap, and her head hurt. She went over to him, thinking Kirann was hurt. He gave her a quick hug, letting her know that he was okay.

"If the Heavens won't give us an army," he said resolutely, "We'll raise one here on Faerun."

Early the next morning, the Challengers left for Altamar. Lord Wallace was waiting on them, beside him was Jaslynn the Succubus and Bruce the Wizard. Soon riders were sent out to surrounding areas. Over the next few days the leaders of Wyvern's Rest and Tyranfal came at the call of Lord Wallace. Curiously representatives from the druid conclave and the Sun's Edge Monastery came as well, even though not expressly invited.

"Greetings, all," Lord Wallace called them all together in his audience chamber. "A special friend has come to us, with knowledge of a threat that will return to our realm."

The conference lasted for a full week, with no hammered out deal for cooperation. There had been many casualties with the attacks by the Orcish Hordes, Demon invaders and the attacks by the Masters of Horus. Even Altamar was not prepared for another fight, as it would take time to replenish their ranks. Ten years sounded like a lot, but even that long, things would be too tenuous. So, they ended with nothing to give to Kirann.

Grand Master Ming-Wa though had a message for Kirann, "Remains my offer does. When the demons return, our might you'll have."

He thanked her, and then went to look out on the battlements. The setting sun on that day warmed his face and he looked for guidance. He knew what he had to do, what he would do. He couldn't ask his people to follow him, and ten years was a long time. It would be improper to hold them to any vows, especially on something that was quickly turning into suicide quest.

"We'll figure something out," Raven said as she came up beside him. "It is beautiful isn't it?"

He smiled, "Sunrises and sunsets are reminders of change. A cycle that renews itself every day."

"I'm here for you," she said. "You won't face this alone."

He turned to her, "I know. Let's enjoy our time, then."

A decade passes, and people move on their paths. Some stay together, others drift apart. So, the same goes for the Challengers. Each one splitting for their own paths, their own adventures. Those that were longer lived barely aged, while those with human life spans aged accordingly. The day quickly moved forward, the day when the return would come to that small mountain village.

Val ended up with her wish of traveling the high seas. Taking up with a bunch of Privateers, they took many missions hunting down pirates and other threats. Soon, she took over for the captain, who retired, and became beloved by her crew. Her sign to return was a bright flash in the sky, and a memory of her good friends in need.

Lorinda ended up taking up the duties of Arch Druid, and reinforced the ties with the monastery nearby. She never truly became comfortable with people constantly seeking her out for wisdom and guidance. However, she slowly grew into her new role and became the leader her friend always knew she was capable of. A vision of blight come for her enclave would send her to find Kirann.

Walton finished his sentence, before taking the posting Lord Wallace had given him. He and Angelique had three children in those years. The headstrong paladin, turned into wise warrior, found himself adapting to fatherhood. Despite his fears, he took to it like a duck to water.

He built up the fort as was his mission and strengthened the forces along the border. As his children grew, they visited their father training his troops. Their mother administered to the spiritual needs of the village nearby, as well as the troops of the fort. The paladin of Tyr found himself at peace and loving his life.

That was till he received a vision of his old band, one where they were in danger. He knew he had to go to them, for Tyr had blessed him with this vision. However, it was bittersweet, as he knew it was a good possibility that he wouldn't return. How he would trade anything for the remainder of his days with his children. Yet, if he did not go, he wouldn't be the man they looked up to. So, he packed up and headed for Altamar.

Leilani rode across the land. Wind whipping in her hair, she had a permanent smile on her face. The Drow Sorceress galloped on her steed, letting the pleasure of riding take her. She and Raven were set to go over some new books that the bard had ordered. They were due to be delivered today, but she had sometime before Raven returned from the town.

For the first year after their marriage, Leilani had traveled, letting Raven and Kirann have some alone time. When she returned, she and the wizard, Bruce Robertson had worked with the couple to make a bridge. This bridge spanned from the world to the plan where Kirann's mansion was. A homey cottage now stood as the entrance, and one door would open to the mansion's grounds.

Lightning split the sky, and Leilani quickly turned her steed around. She galloped towards the small cottage, hoping to avoid getting caught in the rain. Despite all her power, it would be very embarrassing to catch a cold. Especially in front of Kirann's students.

As she rode by, she saw the students of his martial arts school head indoors. Having been built by workers from Wyvern's Rest and Altamar, with some supplied provided by Tyranfal. The school could hold ten people easily, and training grounds has been cleared by his first students. A meeting place, thankfully roofed, sat behind the dormitory. Here Kirann would hold classes, as well as have his students practice.

She noticed that a good majority were meditating under the roofed meeting place, and only one waved as she went by. That wasn't unusual, as most of the time they were too lost in their meditations to see her. They all accepted her, which was nice. She had briefly wondered if Kirann made it a requirement, or drilled into their heads that she was a friend. Either way, it was nice to have a place to belong.

She entered the tiny cottage, going through the special door. Opening up into the courtyard of Kirann's manor, she was met with one of the stable hands. She went inside to find her friends, and was stunned when the atmosphere was so subdued. Seeking out her monk friend, she found him looking pensive. He turned as she came into the room, and she could tell something was wrong. He turned to look at the hallway that led to the bedrooms near the master bedroom.

"It is time," he said softly. "Raven knows."

"They are about to return?" Leilani asked, already knowing the answer. She just had to hear him say it.

"Yes," he said. "I will be going."

"Not alone you won't!" came Raven's voice as she marched into the room. Beneath her arm were the books she had ordered. "We'll face this evil together, as we have met every challenge."

Leilani didn't feel brave, but knew she had to go with her friends, "I'm in. I had hoped this day would never come."

Kirann nodded, "We all did."

"What about help from Tyranfal or Altamar?" Leilani asked.

Raven sighed, "We never got their promise. You don't need to come, this may end badly."

"No, you're family, and you've taught me we don't run when family is in need," Leilani replied, both terrified and sure this was where she needed to be.

Preparations were made quickly. Kirann left his most advanced student in charge while he was gone. Most of the students would be fine till he returned, and they had instructions to head towards Sun's Edge Monastery if he was gone longer than a few weeks. This wasn't the first time he had left his school, so none of his students thought anything of it. Not even with the somber farewells that were given.


	56. Chapter 56

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part LVI

In a town not far away, a curiosity shop named Needful Things was being staffed by Halfling man. He was a shrewd businessman, known for driving a hard bargain. Which is how he managed to get a good price for the supposedly enchanted oil lamp. Haunted would be a better word, as a voice came from it, but it did nothing else. He had managed to buy it off the last owner for five gold. If he had seen any other useful traits, he'd have paid more.

He dusted the curiosity, wondering if anyone would ever come to purchase the item. It had seat on his shelf for the last five years. It seemed anyone interested in it, quickly lost interest. He figured it would sell eventually, he just had to find an angle. Though to be honest, he kind of liked it. Which is why he didn't spend a lot of time trying to sell it.

The Halfling went into the back, now that he was locked up, it was time for second supper. The lass down the way had fixed him, what smelled like an incredibly delicious stew, and he was eager to taste it. He knew she was a good cook, but just as shrewd as he was when it came to business. She was highly sought after for her ability as a seamstress. However, after tasting her cooking, he figured she could do well in the food industry as well.

While he left, a shining winged figure materialized quickly. The shining light the figure set off, nearly fully illuminated the whole shop. It was a miracle that the proprietor didn't notice it, but it was good for the occupant trapped for the last ten years. Left in the oil lamp, not knowing how long she had been imprisoned, but aware that time had passed.

The glowing figure touched the lamp and gas began to pour out of it. Materializing into a pale, white eyed woman, hardly dressed. She let out a whimper as she fell to the ground, her body unused to being in the physical plane. Her hair fell, as she hesitantly looked up, unsure if the evil wizard was bringing her out for more punishment. It could be worse, he could torture her some more, by using his magic to show her powerlessness. He hadn't gotten the point of forcing himself on her yet, but it was only a matter of time.

"Do your worst," the Changeling growled, not wanting him to see the fear in her heart.

Instead of the wizard's voice, she heard a gently, compassionate, but powerful one, "My apologies for not coming sooner, but I was not aware of your predicament."

Relief flooded her, thinking she knew who it was, "Great Traveler! I am your servant."

The voice though shut down that thought, "While I do travel, I am not your Traveler. For now, I'm going to take you to a safe place. There you will be healed, your potential released."

Before the Changeling could argue, warm, comforting light enveloped her and she found herself drifting off into sleep. Safety, security and a sense of wellbeing took over. She rested for the first time since being drug to this realm, and soundly. A peace had settled over, and her battered body set to repairing itself.

When she awoke a beautiful Elf was there, smiling gently at her. She felt the weight of a heavy comforter laid over her, and she was amazed at what she didn't feel. Gone were her aches and pains, the pulsing sensations of the cruel wizard's ministrations. She felt fully recuperated, with not an ounce of exhaustion upon her. Not just that, but there was something inside that changed. A mercurial feeling of great untapped power, and one easily fatigued.

"Hello there! I am Loralei," the Elf introduced herself. "You are the honored guest of Sun Warrior Kirann Lichtus."

"Is that who brought me here?" the Changeling asked.

Loralei shrugged, "A celestial being brought you here to us. He advised to get you healed up and outfitted. Apparently, you have traveled a long way."

"I thank you, but I think I must be leaving," the Changeling said, and threw off the blankets, which is when she noticed her pale white skin. "What happened to me?!"

Loralei held up her hands to calm the other woman down, "Easy, easy. When you were delivered, you changed from a Human woman to this form. We were told you were what is called a Changeling."

"This does not cause you concern?" the Changeling asked, shocked.

The Elf went over to where a small pile of clothing was neatly laid out, "Not really. I was told you could take the form of anyone you have seen. Our librarian says you came from a plane called, Eberron. He also related that your people make great spies and assassins. If I may make a suggestion, don't go to the library. He doesn't easily take to new people.

However, Kirann is notorious for looking past a person's circumstance and seeing them for who they are. I mean he runs with Drow and Tieflings for goodness sake! I don't think you'd warrant a raised brow from him."

"He sounds too good to be true," the Changeling took the clothing, not wanting to remain naked under the sheets. Finding a dressing partition, she put on the clothing, noticing they all fit perfectly.

Loralei smiled, "Some would say he is, but I'm proud to serve him. Now, we need to get you outfitted. The Celestial Being said you had an important job to do, a message to relay."

"And if I refuse?" she asked.

The Elf looked confused, "You are free to go. Each being is able to choose their own destiny. If you choose to help us out, it will be because you want to. Anyway, I'll have Jeeves take you down to the armory. At least take a dagger, I hear the roads are still a little wild."

"Just like that?" the Changeling asked.

Loralei nodded, "I know you experienced some of the cruelest parts of this world. That is over for you. What we are asking you to do, is to bring relief to those who fight to make it better."

"You really believe this," the other woman sounded surprised.

The Elf just gave her a bigger smile, "If only you could have met the master of this manor. Then you would believe easier. When you meet him, don't let his directness or seemingly short speech fool you. He cares about everyone, and sometimes sees things in others, that they can't see in themselves."

"Alright, let's say I agree, what are the details?" The Changeling couldn't believe she was about to agree to this.

Loralei beckoned for her to follow, "I'll explain on the way to the armor. By the way, I never caught your name."

"Aribeth, my name is Aribeth Strider," the Changeling introduced herself.

The Challengers were on their way to the Sun's Edge Monastery in their cart, pulled by young horses. The original horses had been put out to pasture long ago, and were enjoying their retirement. These horses were gifts, though the monk treated them as more. He appreciated what they did for him, but never thought of them as property.

As they neared the monastery, a very well known druid appeared out of the lush greenery. Lorinda gave her friends a friendly wave, before moving to intercept them. Kirann halted the horses, bringing the cart to a slow stop. Behind Lorinda were six druids, acting as an honor guard for her.

"Greetings, Kirann and Raven," Lorinda smiled. "Ah, and you have Leilani with you. What brings you out this way? Not that I complain about seeing you all again."

Kirann gave her a sad smile, "Unfortunately, it is business. It is time."

Lorinda deflated, horrors racing behind her eyes as she looked back. She hadn't been there when they had faced the demons years ago, and it had haunted her since. She had listened to the stories being told, and had wanted nothing more than to be with her friends. Now, it was about to begin again. This time she would be there to fight alongside them.

"You will have my aid," she said with determination. To the honor guard, "Go to the enclave and ask for any volunteers to join us. Sun Warrior Kirann, friend to us all, requires help against a threat most grave. Go now!"

"You've developed quite the dramatic flair," Kirann teased her.

Lorinda cut him a look, "It was your counsel that made me take the Arch Druid role."

"You seem to have grown into that role," Raven remarked.

The Elf druid laughed, "If I had known how much it was just putting out fires, dealing with personalities and less about guiding people, I would have declined."

By midafternoon they had picked up a dozen druids, and were heading back towards the monastery. News must have traveled, because the inhabitants at the monastery met them with an honor guard. They were escorted to where an older, but barely noticeable Grandmaster Ming-Wa Fa met them. She moved a little slower, but for a monk like her, it was still faster than even warriors in their prime.

"Found you have, the ones behind the original attackers," Grandmaster Ming-Wa said. "Told you help we would. Where are they?"

"We go to fight demons and devils," he said.

The grandmaster took it all in, "Aid they gave to the wizard, Manheim, just as responsible are they. Alone, you will not face this."

That night, the druids and the Challengers spent the night feasting and preparing. The next morning they headed out, with almost the full complement of fighting monks. Teachers and lower level students stayed behind to carry on the legacy of Sun Soul to the next generation. A good portion, however, marched with the Challengers.

They marched towards Tyranfal, with the intention of heading through Wyvern's Fall and ending in Altamar. From there they would head to the site of the battle, where the demons had been held back a decade ago.

They found their reception in Tyranfal warm, but no further aid. Lady Byron argued their case, but the other two lords weren't willing to budge. They were not willing to send any of their soldiers off to fight demons so far from home. Kirann had hoped for more, but he could understand their need to protect their own people.

Lady Byron asked the Challengers their forgiveness, to which Raven told her there was nothing to forgive. She had championed their cause, and that was all they could ask of her. In the pit of her stomach, she felt dread rise up. The next stop didn't help that one bit, as the people of Wyvern's Rest had a similar response to their request. Two down, but no further forces added to the druids and the monks.

In Altamar, the druids and monks camped outside the city walls, while the Challengers entered. Instead of heading to the castle first, Kirann led them to the docks. He was hoping that Val had returned from her odyssey. Much to his pleasure, he saw her on the deck of her ship, surrounded by her crew.

Val saw him and immediately ran over, grabbing him in a warm embrace. She then did the same with Raven, Leilani and Lorinda. Her armor and cloak had remained the same, but she had added a captain's hat to her ensemble. She was still the same old Val, and soon they were catching up on everything in the intervening years.

"So, it is time then?" Val asked. "You have my blade, always will. Let me see if any of these pirates want to come along. I've told them all about you!"

As if to accentuate this, one of the sailors came over, "You must be the legendary Kirann Lichtus, Sun Warrior, that we keep hearing about. To be honest we weren't sure if you were even real, even if the captain declares it so."

"He has that effect on people," Leilani said.

As she did the sailor instinctively went for his cutlass, but then stopped himself, "Sorry 'bout that miss. Back home we deal with Drow, and they aren't as pleasant as you."

"No harm," Leilani smirked. "I would hate to flambe a friend of Val's, she usually has good taste."

"Touché," the sailor laughed. "I'm Smitty, and captain, the boys will be joinin' you on this. Though we do ask you make this quick. Unmoving ground is so unnatural."

In Altamar, the Challengers actually got some help. Lord Wallace had severe arguments with his advisors, but in the end they relented. Many of them knew of the Challenger's exploits, but they say time dulls the collective memory. Most of the older people were divided between agreeing to his request, and outright saying it was none of their business. Of the newer advisors, some grew up idolizing the Challengers. However, hero worship was replaced with practical concerns. They could not see giving up any number of forces, for what was amounting to a potential suicide mission.

Lord Wallace went to his family, and made the hardest decision of his life. Talking with his wife, he advised her he was following the Challengers. He also told his counselors that during his absence, his daughter would be taking over. He also asked his wife to help her rule, to give her guidance and watch for what she could not see. His daughter was ready, even if she didn't know it yet.

He then went and spent some time with his son. He was the next in line after his sister, but he was also a very spiritual young man. It was very possible that one day he'd take up the vestments of faith. Lord Wallace couldn't be happier at how his children had turned out, or their how their interests evolved.

The next day he met up with Bruce, his court wizard, who was also packing up. At first Lord Wallace grumbled about Altamar needing him. Yet, Bruce advised of two things. Someone had to be there to pull him out of the fire, if something went wrong, and the Challengers would need all the help they could get. Together they went off to the gathered forces, all volunteers, about a third of Altamar's forces.

Raven had their gathered forces march on, while they left for their next destination. So, the Challengers watched their small army head off, while they took a smaller road. It was rougher, but still maintained. Soon the road's ride began to become smoother and they could tell the roadway had greater care taken with it.

Eventually they came to Fort Wildmont, where Walton was its commander. Not just reinforced, the fort was practically rebuilt from the ground up. Wooden palisades had been recovered, repaired and at times replaced. Massive logs made up the beams of the fort wall, along with a mound of dirt built up around the wall. The built up mound was preceded by a massive trench, winding around the fort like an oval ring. Guard houses were systematic along the wall, with two around the main gated entrance.

"Hold! Who goes there?!" one of the guards called out.

"I am Sun Warrior Kirann Lichtus, and we are the Challengers," Kirann answered. "We seek word with Commander Walton."

Moments later they were ushered into the main keep of the fort. There a weathered Walton looked over a map, along with many missives piled up on the desk nearby. Upon seeing the other Challengers, Walton came over, seeming to lose years as he did so. He clasped Kirann on the arm.

"It has been many years, my friend," Walton smiled. "What brings you out this way?"

"The demons are set to return," Raven answered. "We have come looking for allies."

All the aging that had reversed in Walton reversed, and he seemed to age another ten years in front of them. Yet, his stance didn't change. He looked over to where his wife would normally be and thought of their children together. The paladin of Tyr knew two things, he didn't want to go and he had to. Justice demanded that Evil be stopped when it tried to gain a foothold, no matter what.

"I'll make preparations," Walton said. "I can leave in the morning. We'll take a majority of my forces here. Our numbers here are small, but we are mighty. I would wager them worth three warriors from any army."

Kirann bowed, "I would be honored to fight beside them, then. I promise, I'll do everything to bring you back home."

"I know you will, old friend," Walton said. "You are a good man."


	57. Chapter 57

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part LVII

After a decade, the Challengers rode as one again. They soon fell into roles they had many years before, a comfortable transition, but not one without melancholy. Many of them realized this might be the last time the Challengers were whole. During the intervening years, the name had grown, but each had taken on individual projects. After this was done, if any survived, would they go back to their new lives?

Val entertained them with stories from her life at sea. Regaling them with stories that they were sure were half made up, only for her to prove each one actually happened. Her smile was infectious as the others started to temporarily forget about the danger ahead. Through the years she had gained the ability of a master storyteller, rivaling even Raven. Though her mastery of instruments was vastly outweighed by the Tiefling bard's.

Lorinda complained about the messiness of leading a bunch of tree hugging hippies, not her exact words. Which produced a laugh from Walton, as he described the daily trials of wrangling a bunch of recruits into an actual fighting force. He especially became exasperated about how many of his young men and women tended to have walks of shame, every time they were given liberty. That and the amount of times his people came to roll call in clothes that did not fit, a prank their friends pulled on them.

One new face among them, was Walton's student, Kyla Whisperwood, a Half-Elf who just took her vows as a paladin. She was very embarrassed by some of the stories, making the others thing she was one of those he spoke about. Walton of course wouldn't confirm or deny anything, but shot her a knowing look.

Leilani smiled, feeling her unused mask still inside her cloak. Kyla had done what most people did when they saw her, and started to reach for her weapon. However, just like the sailor from Raven's ship, she soon apologized. It was still much better than most other Drow got, as people tended to kill first and ask questions later. Still, she felt like her family was whole again. Kirann and Raven were great to be around, but she had missed the others.

Before they wanted it, the party arrived at the small little town in the mountains. The town was still small, even though the population had grown over the last decade. New buildings had been erected, and the town looked just a bit larger. The people were still the simple humble folk they had always been, but with the addition of a bigger church and a new market. Full of crafted goods, and other important things for adventurers or hardy settlers.

The townspeople though recognized the group, even after all the years. The reactions to them were mixed at best. Some thought them to be harbingers of great destruction, knowing they would only return when the demons were set to return. Others were grateful that experienced adventurers would take care of the issue, as none of them wanted to fight demons on their own.

As they went through the town, they saw the Altamaran Forces, Sunsoul Monks, a good portion of Walton's forces, several druids and Val's crew waiting on them on the outskirts. A camp had been formed, with material and supplies already set up for the small army camped out. Around the camp, sergeants ran drills for the enlisted, while the officers had a command tent set up. As the Challengers entered the camp, they were directed to the command tent, with their wagon and horses being taken to makeshift stables.

"Sun Warrior Lichtus," one lieutenant said as he led Kirann to where Lord Wallace was looking over a map of the area. "It is an honor to serve alongside you. You may not remember me, but I was a young boy when Altamar was attacked. You and the others inspired me to serve."

"Well met," Kirann answered back. "You can call me, Kirann"

Waiting on them, Lord Wallace had several maps laid out of the surrounding area. None of them were fully fleshed out, with lots of portions left with "Dragons be here," marked with clouds. However, several newly created, maps were being set up. Most were recognizable, but not as intricate as the others.

"Challengers, I've had scouts and patrols going about the surrounding area," Lord Wallace advised. "We should be ready when the demons return. Do you have any suggestions?"

Looking over the maps, Raven pointed to several point, "We could station any wizards and druids you have around these points. They're more defensible and will allow for easier spell casting."

Kirann nodded, "If we set up some barriers around these points, it might slow the demons down a little bit. It won't affect the bigger ones, but the smaller and medium sized ones will be slowed by them."

"I would suggest putting some priests just behind the lines here," Walton suggested. "Any paladins we have, I would suggest intermixing them with the others on the line. Their healing spells will be useful."

"Agreed, I've had archers placed around these places," Lord Wallace went on. "We should have enough crossfire to create havoc in the ranks. I would still feel better if we had stone walls and other fortifications."

Kirann just looked at the map, "It'll have to do. Thank you all again, for heeding the call."

The Aasimar monk left to go meditate, with Raven going around to the gathered forces, playing songs. The other Challengers made their way around, making themselves of use or imparting knowledge to those gathered. All except for Lorinda, who wild shaped into a hawk and flew off. Only Val saw her leave, but the rogue had faith in the druid, knowing there as an important reason she was leaving.

The wizard, Bruce said as Kirann left, "He does not truly understand that a request from him carries such weight."

"If he did, he wouldn't be the hero he is," Lord Wallace said. "He would have led his party here along to face impossible odds, all without complaint."

Behind the two men was a very scared, and very fidgety succubus. Over the years Jaslyn had kept her word to the monk. In that time, she had lived comfortably, but with complications. Her hunger had begun to change, her wings were still slowly growing back as well. However, the biggest change was the desires she felt were different. She found herself feeling comfortable around young people, had found herself fantasizing about getting a pet, and even began matchmaking couples.

In short Jaslyn found herself feeling less like a subservient devil, and more like one of the mortals she used to prey upon. The smile of a baby made her smile as well, while seeing two young people in love had begun to make her warm all over. These were not the feelings of a succubus, they were not what it meant to be a devil or demon either. No, these were something else, maybe something more.

When Lord Wallace came, she felt the need to be along. She knew it was probably the oath she had given to Kirann. While she harbored no ill will towards him, she was thinking unkind things about the promise he had made her give. Yet, upon seeing him again, she didn't feel immediately fealty, but something else. The willingness to follow because he was who he was, not the power he had over her. It was an uncanny, and unfamiliar feeling for her.

That didn't stop her nerves. She knew that if she was returned to the Hells, she would be hunted. With an army of demons set to return at any time, her chances of going back rose every second she was here. Jaslyn had grown over the years, but she still wanted to make sure she'd get out of this in one piece. While she was on this plane, she was safe, but why didn't that fill her with peace? Because she worried about what would happen to those she had lived with for the past years.

Lorinda landed near the ruins, having heard all about them from the others. Val had filled her in, right before she had set off to sea. Told her of the stories of each Challenger, and the tests that had been set before them. Surprisingly, Val didn't know the boon Kirann had been given. That just made the druid smile. The monk could be very mysterious, without even trying or realizing. Other times you could read him like a book, because of how open he was. Well, if you know how to take him.

Down into the ruin she traveled. As she did so, she thought better of coming alone. Though from what she knew, they would have been divided, a partner or fellow traveler would keep the loneliness at bay. There was something about the place that was unnerving solo, almost as if being warned that one should not enter alone. She wasn't truly alone, she held her friends in her mind and in her heart.

Light took her, blinding impassable light and she felt a flash of fear for only a few seconds. Then the light was gone and she was again in the middle of ruins. Great stone pillars rose to the sky, only to be broken off in jagged pieces that speared into the air. Beneath her feet dirt intermixed with ash and rotting vegetation. The sky blazed an unnatural red, with dark billow clouds racing around in a way that was beyond natural.

Lorinda set a quiet prayer to any Nature god, being met with a deafening, buzzing sound. As she walked out, the grounds around the ruin were turned black by decomposing material. She couldn't make out if it was vegetation or animal remains, though she could make out the bone white shapes of something sticking out of the blackness. Beneath her boots, things crunched, like she was traipsing over a thousand insect bodies.

Despite herself, a chill ran down Lorinda's spine. From the destroyed sky howls filled the air, just as a jagged moon rose. As if a god had bitten the moon, a huge chunk was missing and the image produced a shudder in the druid. Behind her more howls came as things began to run towards her.

The druid pulled her bladestaff, readying a spell, and hoping it would work here. Loping towards her were creatures that would never be confused with wolves or dogs, though they did run on all fours. Even the hellhounds of the Hells were prettier than these things. All bone, sinew and decay, they reminded her of a plague. Ichor dripped from their bodies, splattering across the ground. Something sickly yellowish dripped from their bared fangs, and their lips were so rotten, to almost be falling off. Long hairless tails whipped back and forth, making the sound of crunching bones as they did.

The first one was easily impaled on her bladestaff, and slid off with a sick mucus like slurping sound. Lorinda didn't have time to shudder, as another of the beasts came at her from behind. Slamming the middle of her bladestaff into the thing, she heard a sickening crunch as the thing fell immobile. The last one slammed into her, but wasn't able to bite her. She brought her weapon around, missing the last thing.

She struck again and went to cast entangle, only for the spell to sputter into nothingness. Her strike missed and the thing nipped at her feet. It didn't cause damage, but she knew now that her druid abilities didn't work. Instead she fell back on her martial skills, and really regretted not practicing more.

It took two more attempts before Lorinda finished off the last creature. This one let out a pitiful wheeze as it died. It was at this moment, that for the briefest of fleeting seconds, that she saw what the creature was before. A proud wolf, running with its pack before the Blight had come. Her heart broke as she saw it slowly descend into madness as the rest of nature also fell to the sick, disgusting Blight.

The world died before her eyes, and the link with the creature disappeared as it gasped its last breath. Emotion running over, Lorinda stood up and cast burning spell, and this time it came to her in full force. The three bodies quickly erupted, and soon were replaced with three piles of ash. Lorinda said a quick prayer, hoping that if there were gods still around, that they would hear it.

Val had warned her about these tests. However, that warning was vastly inadequate. Lorinda was feeling a deep pit of despair open up in her soul. Here she was in a place where nature had been destroyed, possibly murdered. Something about the feel of the world, made her feel as if it was beyond even mortal ability to destroy. The buzzing sound remained, and hurricane force winds whipped around from time to time.

She managed to keep her footing, even as the winds attempted to drag her off. Then the winds would be gone, and the cold would chill her. The sun continued in its nearly set position, never moving even as the hours racked up. The red light it gave off, bathing the world in crimson blood light.

Lorinda kept pressing on, because she felt something guiding her forward. The answers to what had happened here, felt very, very close. So, despite the heaviness in her soul, she put one foot in front of another. Walking deliberately and with great effort ever forward. Eventually she found a grand tree that rose high into the heavens.

This tree was covered in the same decay and rotting material as everything else. Yet here she felt something different than any other part of the world. There was hope yet here, a power that called to her. She found her steps lightening and her speed increasing. Inside her, power and hope returned with gusto. The atmosphere here wasn't as oppressive here, till she got near the tree.

Then the oppression came back full force. Nearly knocking her over, the negative energy sapped her newly returned strength. Tears formed as her frustration mounted. Was there anything in this destroyed world, or was this her punishment? As if to answer her question, another figure came into view.

"Arch Druid," the man said. "We need your guidance. War came, great evils released and now all but a handful of us are dead. We tried to heal the World Tree, but we weren't strong enough. You though, you must have the power to fix this all."

Lorinda looked at the haggard figure, barely skin and bones, "How many have tried?"

"Too many, we sacrificed a dozen of our Circle," the man explained. "None of them were strong like you!"

She shook her head, "Even as powerful as I am, this tree is too far gone. We must cull it and salvage what we can."

"No!" the man ran at her, with berserk strength and fury. "You will not destroy it! We must have it drink of your blood, that will fix it all."

Lorinda was surprised by his attack, and for a moment he came close to hurting her. However, the man was malnourished, and very fatigued. She managed to overpower him, and slammed him into the ground. Despite herself, she cringed as she heard his bones break. She hadn't wanted to harm him, but his body must have been so weakened, even her slightest attack would destroy his body.

She went to cast a healing spell, only for it to sputter. For a brief moment, she saw a spark of magic flourish and hope returned. It pointed her towards the tree, the decaying, nearly dead, and horribly mangled World Tree. She went over, with the man on the ground screaming the whole time. He was begging her to save it, not to destroy it. That wasn't the image she was getting though.

Seeing past what was there, something she had learned as she grew as a druid. Kirann had always had faith in her, even when she didn't. He saw beyond what was there, to what was inside. She had started to do this after being sidelined, started to try to see the world as what it could be and what it was. Though the inspiration, she had found her own way of seeing things differently than Kirann did.

What lay before her was a dead thing, of a dead world, slowly decaying till all became dust and darkness. Something else was there, a bright speck. Tiny, but powerful, this spark just needed to be released. Of course, with that much power held in such a small thing, it would either unleash untenable power or slowly expand ever outward.

Taking her weapon out, Lorinda turned to the man and apologized, "I'm sorry, but this is the only way."

Then calling on her powers, she unleashed flame and fire upon everything. The World Tree quickly caught fire, the decomposing landscape quickly caught flame and the whole world became one massive bonfire. Smoke rose to the sky, blotting out what little light there was, and soon Lorinda was on her hands and knees. It was getting harder to breath, but she still held on. She saw the small spark growing, becoming larger and more pronounced. She smiled as that spark finally revealed itself as a tiny sapling, growing forth from the ruined World Tree.

"I think that is enough," a very elegant voice said.

Lorinda stood up, fully able to breathe again, and feeling cool air waft over her. Coming down from the sky was a Silver Dragon floating down to meet her. The dragon looked at the Elf druid with curiosity before letting out what she could only call a laugh. She wasn't sure how to feel at that, but she chose to hold her tongue. There was no need to agitate something big enough to eat you in one chomp, though that wasn't what Silver Dragons were known for.

"Sometimes rebirth comes from destruction," the dragon said. "Taking a stone, you take the bits off to make a sculpture. Thus, to make the sculpture you carefully destroy the stone. A hero is born a mortal, and they are challenged, their limits destroyed. In that destruction, new abilities and new powers are found. To redeem a villain, you must destroy who they were, to make them into what they could be. Death and Life are ever in an eternal balance. The death of a deer leads to enriched soil, which will grow vegetation, to then feed new deer. Is that not what you believe little druid?"

"Who are you?" Lorinda asked.

The dragon ignored the question, "Yes, yes you do. I see a woman who has learned to destroy her ego, to be the person her people needed her to be, and the person she wanted to be. You have been tested and been found worthy. You understand that nature is always in a constant cycle, and that nature goes beyond simple forests and forest life. It touches the cosmos and beyond even your understanding."

"I'm not sure I follow," Lorinda said, feeling herself begin to get testy at feeling foolish.

The dragon turned towards her, and gave her what was a smile, "I think you do. Through your travels, you learned and taught. You took the lessons of the road and made your people better. Your heart is pure when it comes to your friends and people, able to be hardened when necessary to fight those who would harm them." Seeing Lorinda bite back her tongue, the dragon laughed, "You miss your Spartan worded friend, and would like me to get to the point. I can see why, your about to face a great test. However, you have passed mine. You understand that sometimes destruction leads to rebirth. So, to you I give the Balance."

Beside Lorinda a bladestaff appeared. The two blades on each end were intricately formed with great care, but a brilliant weaponsmith. On one end was a symbol, with "Creation" being spoke into her mind. The other end another symbol, this one she instantly knew was "Destruction." This weapon was made for her, and would return to her hand with a thought.

"Little one, it is time for you to return," the dragon said. "If we ever meet again, I would love to meet your friends and spend some time talking. You really are special, such wonderous beings you quick lived mortals are."

Before she could speak again, Lorinda found herself back in the ruins, back in Faerun. In her hand was the bladestaff, her boon from this testing ground. The sky had changed, and she realized she would soon be missed. So, with just one last look back, she took flight against as a bird. Rapidly she headed back to where she had left her friends. Behind her, she didn't see a silver flying dragon flash across the horizon.


	58. Chapter 58

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part LVIII

The coming morning brought an unease to the camp of soldiers. Throughout the night scouts had kept up their duties, with no sign of the demons' return showing. It had not gotten to the point where they questioned their leader's intelligence yet, but they were on edge. Like any being, the waiting for some big event seemed to be more torturous than the actual event. Still, to keep them focused, their leaders ran them through drills.

Raven found Kirann looking over the field where his guide had disappeared a decade ago. He looked sad, but also confident. Was he concerned that his guiding Angel would not survive, or those he brought to fight the demon army? Probably the latter, as even though they were powerful, these were demons that they were fighting. Beings of pure chaos and evil, they were deadly even to the most experience adventurer, despite any magical armor and weapons. She still would put all her money on him though.

She walked up behind him, putting a hand on the small of his back. She marveled the heat coming from his robes, still amazed after all these years, that his battle attire was basically cloth. She wore her armor, and felt strong in it. Next to hers though, his seemed so little protection for him. Yet, it looked like the armor of a powerful monk, and she knew his protection came from his abilities.

"Everything okay?" she asked gently.

He turned to her and smiled, "Yeah, it is about to begin. Many may fall here."

"While it may sound hollow, they are doing it to make the world better," Raven reminded him. "They also go into battle with knowing this, they are proud to fight beside you."

Kirann began to look sad, "I know. Things will change after this. No matter what, things change after this."

"For better or worse?" Raven looked for the answer in his eyes and found it.

He touched his head to hers, "Better, if I have any say about it."

They turned to face the field, and didn't have long to wait. The air shimmered, causing tiny particles of light to shift into reality. Wind picked up, sending the grass dancing about in a savage, energetic form. Thunderous like rumbles rolled across to wash over the waiting army, acting as a massive punch, knocking many down. Three more times did these rumbles hit, each time the lights growing more spectacular and the wind more ferocious. Coming from all this chaos were a multitude of forms materializing into reality with great violence. As if the world was fighting back, the demons faded I and out before reforming into Faerun.

Alexael screamed as he fell back, landing onto the ground hard. His armor was destroyed, once gleaming and full, now broken and dirty. His form emaciated, after expending so much of himself to hold the demon horde back. His wondrous spear, ripping demon ichor, clattered out of his hand. Angelic blood flowed from his many injuries and he felt his control of his form fading. Above him was a monstrous demon that looked like an ogre and a toad copulated, it was aiming a harpoon straight for his heart.

He hoped Kirann was far away, even as he knew the demons would be a hazard for the locals. If Kirann could muster the higher powers, then the gods of the realm might send more to aid the mortals. He could only count on the monk's abilities growing in the time he had given him, and using that to be ready. At least then the sacrifice he was making would be worthwhile. So as the demon set its harpoon to destroy him, he smiled.

Then a flash of pure sunlight and fire incinerated the demon. It screamed a hellish scream, one so loud that the other demons took notice. Ash hung in the air as Alexael weakly tried to turn his body. He heard the screams of warriors, but they didn't sound like celestial ones. Nor was the flying figure that whizzed by him on golden wings.

Somebody picked up Al, and he watched in horror as a holy paladin slammed into a demon, two handed great sword slicing through the brutish thing. Others were peppered with arrows, while another howled in pain as two blades cutting into its heels. The angel was drug by strong hands, then handed off to a priest, and that was when Al realized for sure, these were all mortals. They were all doomed!

With Alexael safely back at the line, Kirann called for everyone to fall back. As they did, the demons rushed forward. He and Lord Walton had counted on them doing just this. As they demons did, arches and wizards cast their arrows and spells. Demons jerked and fell as multiple arrows impacted their bodies, and the magical spells tore through them. More came to replace them, Malena opening a portal to bring more in.

The forces arrayed against the demons were using the pass leading to the field to their advantage. Impromptu wooden defenses funneled the smaller demons where the waiting army wanted them to. Two of the wizards and three sorcerers turned their attention from those, to the devil spawning the demons into the field. They unleashed lightning and fireballs, yet each time, the demons surrounded the devil and took the blasts.

That was about the time Malena sent to flying demons to harass the magic wielders. What the devil didn't see, were the Sun Soul monks backing up the arcane casters. One winged demon flew face first into a blast of sun energy. The other took a blast to its wing, and crashed behind the lines. The two monks were quickly on it, sending ki infused strikes to end it where it lay.

Malena scowled before sending a Hell Bolt at her attackers. This time, wizards, sorcerers and monks were thrown up into the air. She smiled as one didn't move, and the other three had to drag that figure off. Seeing the defenses, she thought it was time to call in the big guns. She called forth several, very large, and almost giant-sized demons. What she didn't expect was another to come strolling out, but he wasn't a demon or a giant-sized.

Tyrannus's voice boomed, "Malena, my dear. You continue bringing our forces to bear. I believe there is a monk I have business with."

"They will prove no match for us," Malena evilly grinned. "They have put a resistance, but it is as pitiful as they are."

"Do not underestimate the Aasimar, he is tricky," Tyrannus said. "His skin will decorate my wall, when this is all done."

"As long as I can have some of his bones," Malena seemed hungry for this request. "Corrupting the bones of an Aasimar will produce a powerful weapon."

Tyrannus nodded, "Agreed."

With the large demons lumbering forward, they crushed the wooden defenses that had been set up. However, that is how one of them fell. A cunning sorceress sent a lightning bolt straight to its throat, while a druid cast an entangling vine. As both hit, the large demon tripped and dropped the wooden stake defense. Falling forward, one of the wooden stakes pierced its neck, while the remainder of the defense snapped under the weight.

The other large demon chucked the defense it had picked up, right at the tightly packed line of defenders. Luckily an explosion of light and force destroyed the projectile, but did throw many to the ground stunned. Before the demons could take advantage, another sun bolt tore through the head of the large demon. It crashed to the ground with a resounding thud, and hit three other demons coming up behind it.

The lines quickly reformed, as replacements pulled the stunned soldiers to the back, and took their place. They didn't have long before more demons came at them, and the bodies of those before piled up. Wounded began to be sent to the rear of the line, where healers worked their magics. Losses were light for the first few hours, the demons were much higher. These though were expendable, with the stronger demons starting to make their way forward. Soon, they would face weary defenders, something the demons didn't have to worry about.

Just as the demons began to taunt the defenders, and thought their time to be easy, they were proven wrong. A wondrous melody, a song of harmony and quick strumming, poured into the air. The music carried a power all its own, reinvigorating those on the line and off. Weary soldiers felt their strength return, and their will soar. They taunted the demons back, feeling invincible. Caught off the guard, the stronger demons were surprised by the strength of the mortals' resistance. The addition of a monk with deadly hands, and a bard armed with a sword made it worse.

One of the demons saw its fellow fall, with a caved in skull. Another lost a hand, before being disemboweled by another slice. More demons came, and soon were stopped as a paladin and rogue came from the sides. Forcing them to fight on the flanks, they didn't see the Drow sorceress and Elf druid send out their spells. That didn't stop those spells from tearing the demons apart.

Behind the Challengers cheers erupted, but the day was not won yet. They had to find some way to stop the amount of demons pouring into the area. If they didn't close off the portal, the surrounding area would start to align with the Hells. This would make it easier to open portals to there, or even change the surrounding areas for the worse. The only problem was their outnumbered forces, being as there were far more demons still, even with their losses.

Al staggered to his feet, seeing his charge reintegrate in with the line. His companions joining up with him by the table where Lord Walton looked over the maps. Weakly the angel managed his way over, despite the protests of the priests and priestess around him. The druids looked on, not sure what to do with this Celestial.

"We had some try to hit that devil keeping the portal open," Lord Walton said. "However, that ended badly. One wizard is on death's door and the others are still out of the fight. The healers tell me they'll be ready in a few hours. In the meantime, we are holding the demons off."

"We've taken out their larger demons," Kirann said. "They have two devils now, one of them is Tyrannus."

"The one that attacked Altamar?!" Bruce Robertson asked. "It is a good thing we came, it would be nice to get a little payback for the damage he caused."

Kirann thought for a moment, "This may work for us. Bruce can you get open a portal to the devil?"

"You can't be serious!" Al called out, nearly falling over. "You're going to attack two devils head on?"

"He's right, my love," Raven agreed. "You're good, but two powerful devils against you is suicide."

"Not two, Just Tyrannus," he corrected. "Bruce, I would need you to help the others with the other devil."

"I can not agree to this," Lord Walton said. "You would be behind enemy lines, even if you are successful, you'd surely die."

Kirann placed his hand up, "We'll draw Tyrannus up here." He pointed to a point just beyond the lines. "The portal will before sending magic, not people. You'll have to close it quickly, Bruce."

"We'd need to keep the other devil's attention on us," the wizard said. "I do think we can do that."

"Send a few volunteers up to cast their most powerful spells," Lord Wallace thought it over. "Who knows we might get lucky and do some damage."

"Kid, you can't fight him alone, I'll go with you," Al said, even as he stumbled.

Raven corrected the angel, "He won't be. I took a vow, in sickness and in health, through all your trials, I would be by your side. A devil is small potatoes." She saw him about to argue when she put her hand up, "No, together we will fight. Not for glory, but because it is the right thing to do."

"I don't want to lose you," he said solemnly.

She kissed him on the lips gently, "Then destroy that devil."

Al tried to stop them, but fell forward. Kirann caught him, and the angel looked guiltily at his charge. However, Kirann gently laid him back down to rest. The angel saw his charge, as both the powerful warrior he was, and that young boy he had protected for years. Now he was a hero among men, and about to take on a devil. Pride filled the angel's heart, but also a grand sense of dread.

Preparations were made, and about an hour later, everything was in place. The line had lost more warriors, as more were injured. Some were very serious, with the healers unsure if they would survive. Still, the line held and was key for the plan to go ahead. If they had failed, then what came next would have ended even worse. That day, those who came to fight, showed what mortals were capable when fighting for what was right.

Kirann and the Challengers met one final time. They each had their assignments. He and Raven would take on Tyrannus. Lorinda and Leilani would aid the wizard, Bruce in attacking the second devil. Which left Val and Walton to aid those on the line. It was a heavy goodbye, because there was a finality to the whole thing.

Val held back tears, but they knew how she felt. Walton looked tired, more tired than he had been in a while. Lorinda looked angry, but she quickly embraced both Kirann and Raven, her tears falling to the ground below. Leilani called for any god who was listening, to watch over her friends.

Moments later Kirann stood in place and bellowed to the devils below, "Tyrannus, I am here! Do you fear me to hide behind these things?! I thought you were made of sterner stuff."

The devil's answer was to send several demons at Kirann, and was surprised when they all fell quickly. A huge explosion of light and sound obliterated the demons, and those that weren't immediately destroyed, were taken out by the line. More cheers roared from the line, causing great pain to the devils below.

"Fine, I'll destroy you myself!" Tyrannus leapt up and landed in front of the monk. "You embarrassed me before, but now I will stomp you out like the bug you are."

"We shall see," Shot the monk back as he leapt upon the devil.

Behind him Raven started to play, and she cast her spells, which slammed into Tyrannus. The devil was impressed, she had hidden herself from his sight. That was not an easy thing to do, but he figured the monk had meant the attention to be on him. No matter, the devil had grown in strength since their last battle. The Aasimar thought he was going to win, but no, Tyrannus knew that short of being a god, the man was going to die today.

While Kirann and Raven engaged with the devil, Tyrannus, others proceeded with the plan. Several wizards broke off from the defenders and hurled deadly accurate spells at Malena. As before demons swarmed around her and were blown apart. Flinging her hand, she sent more hellish spells back at her attackers. Most managed to get away, but some fell.

However, then others began hurling spells at her from another direction. She turned to face them, throwing up a shield as the last demon near her disintegrated. One massive fireball nearly took her down, she felt her shield start to buckle. She growled, knowing the hit would have hurt a lot, but wouldn't have killed her. If many of their wizards had that power though, then she would be in danger. She started to throw spells with abandon then, her main focus on destroying those damnable magic users.

She missed the shimmering portal open up behind her. Bruce studied the devil, Malena, and cast the strongest spells he could. Beside him Lorinda and Leilani sent their own through the portal. Then came the rested wizards, and those with the most powerful killing spells. Just as one expended their spells, another took their place. Many were sent back to the line, with what spells remained. For even if they were successful, the wizard, sorcerers, druids and other spell slingers would still be needed.

Kirann slammed his elbow into the devil's face, hearing a massive crunch. The demon howled, and then threw him. He landed softly, as Raven came up and sent one of her bard spells right into the devil's knee. Tyrannus swatted at her, only to be met with Kirann's sunbolt to his face. The attack burned, and nearly hit his eye. The devil sent out a spell, and it send the monk rolling as he tried to dodge. Then he slammed his own weapon where the Tiefling bard was, and she barely managed to get out of its way.

Behind Tyrannus, Malena screeched in pain. Spell after spell hit her, and due to the assault by from the lines, her shield had fell quickly. Arcane energies ripped at her body, pieces of her flesh began to fall to the ground. Though resistant to fire, she found herself being burned away by the fireballs being sent at her. Quick as a flash, she sent spells out, but only the third hit the defender's portal.

Bruce started to close the portal, hoping that they had disrupted the devil enough, when a small stout figure jumped through it. It was too late for him to stop the closure, and he watched helpless as the Dwarf leaped through the air, axe raised high. Those around him were just as shocked, not sure who had just committed suicide.

Tryannus paid no heed to the cries coming from Malena. His hated enemy lay before him, ready to be squashed. Next to him was the meddling Tiefling, who thought they both would be a challenge to him. In his peripheral, he saw a blazing being of light fly forward. Maybe the Aasimar's guardian had regained some strength, better for him to see his charge die horribly. He lifted his weapon and brought the mace down with a booming crash, that shook the ground all around the mountain.

The devil pulled up his weapon, ready to pick up the broken remains and taunt the Angel with it. Except there was nothing there. His shock lasted just a moment as Kirann flew up on golden wing. He unleashed sunburst after sunburst, followed by sunbolts. Tyrannus howled, and swatted at the flying monk.

As he did so, he jerked back his hand as holy energy burned it. Instead he swung his mace, to knock the monk back. Kirann landed on the mace, leapt off and proceeded to slam a ki infused fist into the devil's face. Tryannus rocked back, but jerked his head forward, sending Kirann rocketing to the ground.

Malena was not expecting a Dwarf to come flying at her. Thanks to all the damage she had sustained, she wasn't ready for any form of defense. All she could do was gasp as Boris, former Challenger, sunk his axe into her skull. She howled in pain as her head split open and she finally lost her concentration. The portal spewing demons closed, and she found it very hard to concentrate on reopening it.

Shaking her head, she instinctively grabbed her attacker. In her hands, she crushed the Dwarf, enjoying the sound of his bones snapping throughout his body. Then angry, she threw the now broken Dwarf back to the line. She wanted them to see what happened to those that were foolish enough to take her on. Still, she felt faint as ichor poured down her face. She needed to rest, the Dwarf had done more damage than she realized.

Kirann rolled with the impact, he still felt the wind be knocked from him, but he was up again. Raven was back up and she was casting more spells, her singing pushing away their exhaustion. She and the devil traded blows, just enough for Kirann to get back into the fight. He saw the golden figure, and knew it was time. He rushed forward as the shining figure flew towards him.

Tyrannus batted the bard away, turning just a moment to check on the monk. To his horror, he saw the golden figure of light and the monk meet. Then something he hadn't seen before made the devil pause. The surrounding area was bathed in the light of a second sun, causing damage to Tyrannus as well as the demons near the lines. Stunned momentarily, the devil is dumbfounded.

Kirann and the figure merge, and his voice took on a booming, echo to it, "It is time to end this!"

Rushing forward the monk shrunk Tyrannus down to the size of a man. Then hit him with a strength the monk should have been incapable of doing. Fear spread through the demon as a man hit him with the power beyond him. No mere mortal should have been able to harm him, a group of Angels should have had trouble. Yet this one monk was not pounding him into oblivion.

Raven looked on with wonder as Kirann exuded holy energy. She kept up her song, wanting to give him as much of an edge as she could. Light surrounded her and she felt energy return to her, and felt her injuries heal. Even her armor began to mend by itself. Despite the fact he didn't have this power, she knew it had come from Kirann.

Grabbing the devil by the throat, he turned to her, "I'll be back."

Before she could ask what he meant, the Aasimar monk flung himself into the sky on golden light wings of a dragon. Far into atmosphere she watched in as a sudden explosion obliterated the devil. Her elation turned sour as she didn't see any sign of Kirann. Then she heard the cheers coming from the line, turn deadly quiet.

Behind her, a portal opened and Lorinda came through. Raven looked up, not sure what had just happened. However, the druid's eyes told her what Lorinda believed. The druid drug her back through, and the portal closed. Behind the demons congregated on the area they had just left.

One good thing with for the defenders on the line, the attack stopped. The demons mulled about, but without Malena guiding them, they stopped. Whatever control she had on them, was keeping them at bay while she rested. That gave the defenders time to regroup, heal and rest their own. It also gave them the time to assess their losses.

A dozen had fallen so far, most succumbing to their wounds when Kirann had taken out Tyrannus. Another one was very personal to the Challengers, the dying, broken remains of Boris. He was clinging to life, and was brought to them. His breathing came in ragged gasps, but he still held his axe in his hand.

"Did I do good?" he asked in a raspy voice.

Lorinda smiled, sending some healing energy to ease his pain, "Aye, you did. You gave us a pause, and the portals are closed."

Boris smiled, "I'm…I'm sorry." He coughed up blood, and it pooled on the ground under him. "Win this…my family…in the town. I…" He started to drift off, "My axe, take it…my child..dear child. I…family…tell them…" With that he began hacking up his ruined lungs.

Raven, still coming to terms with everything, eased his pain, "The tale of Boris the Dwarf will end with his heroic stand against a devil, and saving the innocent."

He turned to her, and for the first time in forever, looked on with fondness at her true form, "Thank…thank you."

He held on for two more hours, before he succumbed to his injuries. The healers and Lord Wallace gave him the honors of a fallen hero. Those warriors not on the line came out to pay their respects. The Challengers, took their place at the lead. They took his body back to the town, where his family met them.

It was a painful experience. His wife broke down over his battered body, while the other townspeople took it to be prepared for burial. Val handed Boris' axe to his widow, telling her his last wish. That night, the funeral was held, and the town mourned. Those not of the town had to return to their encampment, but they could hear the chants for the fallen Dwarf.

Kirann was on a mountain. The same mountain from his visions. Full of green trees and snowy peaks. Below there is a lush forest with a river running through it. It was pristine, with the crisp mountain air filling his lungs. The cool air reinvigorated him, and he knew he had found the area he had been looking for, ever since seeing it long ago.

Behind him came an unfamiliar voice, "Welcome to the Heavens, Kirann Lichtus. We have much to discuss."

There behind him was another angel, one that looked familiar, but he knew that they had never met before. That was when the memories came flooding back. He closed his eyes, and let them come. After a few minutes, he knew that there was a lot to do, and not very much time.

He headed straight for the angel, "Let's get started then."


	59. Chapter 59

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part LIX

Weary beings plopped to the ground, the weight of their own emotions pulling them down to the ground. Kyla watched as her mentor, her teacher fell to the ground, resting like a sack of potatoes. Broken by the loss of his friend, she felt the pain radiating off of him. He was trying to hold it in, stoically, but she could see the pain etched on his face. It was the same pain etched on the faces of all the other Challengers.

She went back to her armor, her weapons, doing something to keep her mind off the day's events. Not a friend of Kirann's, or a member of his group, she had heard many stories of the strange monk. Walton had expounded on the monk's virtues, his prowess in battle, but most importantly, his compassionate heart. Meeting him, however briefly, had left a mark on her. It was how unassuming he was, and unaware of the power he held in his hands.

Now he was gone. Despite herself, Kyla felt wetness around her eyes. She was shedding what her teacher could not. Behind her a lord of people, stared vacantly. His confidant, advisor, and his friend looked just as lost. While a succubus stormed off to the outskirts, anger filling every fiber of her being.

Lord Wallace had sent many to their death's before, and he was sure he was sending more to their demise now. He had always known that this was probably a one-way trip. The word of Kirann had been enough to get him marching though. The hero had put his life on the line for others, for as long as Lord Wallace had known him. He had hoped to be a little more like this hero, by coming here with him. It was strange how the humblest could bring the mighty to their knees, and when they were humble and mighty, well they toppled devils.

Bruce the wizard walked after Jaslyn, not so much to keep her out of trouble, but because their forces couldn't afford to pick a fight amongst themselves. He caught up with the angry succubus, her true nature on display for all to see. Only his presence kept the others from pulling their weapons. A full day of fighting demons and devils made them less than accepting of any amongst them, even those on their side.

"You can leave wizard, they won't dare touch me!" Jaslyn growled. "I just want some space from all you damn mortals."

Bruce smiled, thinking about how Kirann would handle this, "I'm sure you can wear yourself out fighting or in other ways, but would that bring him back?"

"I don't care!" she hissed.

"It is okay to feel," Bruce said, moving closer to her. "It is only natural."

"Not for monsters like me!" she exclaimed. "I'm supposed to be conniving, calculating, and out for my own self. Instead, I'm angry. Angry that he is gone and I have these feelings!"

Bruce pulled her to him, it was a warm embrace. It wasn't passionate or loving, but rather empathetic. They were both mourning the loss, a good friend, and something more. To Jaslyn, he was an oddity. A being with Celestial blood, that cared for her, showed her something else besides what she knew. To Bruce, someone who would listen, immensely curious and willing to show his own wisdom. How many times had they had conversations, about nothing in particular, but everything?

"It's okay, he has a way of changing the people around him," Bruce said. "It's hard not to get attached to the lovable lug."

Jaslyn beat her hands against his chest, "What is wrong with me? Why does it hurt?"

"Because he mattered, he mattered to us all," Bruce relayed. "The greater the pain, the greater he meant, but he also left us with something else. Memories of how things can be, should be, and an example of how to be."

Jaslyn wiped her eyes, "What does it say when he can make a succubus cry?"

"That he was right about you," Bruce said without hesitation. "Come on, let's get back."

As the succubus and the wizard walked back, with Raven watching. The fruits of his labor, and she smiled. Kirann would have loved seeing this. The others were still adamant he was really gone, she felt differently. She still felt him in her heart, and she remembered his last words, that he would return. He kept those type of promises, the important ones. Not that all promises weren't, but for him, these were the ones that mattered. If any could, he would come back.

She stared down at her guitar, strumming on it mindlessly. Raven felt his hands on her shoulders, as he was want to do when she practiced. She could feel his breath on her neck, as he leaned in to kiss her. Warmth spread through her body, making her shiver. She could almost see and hear him in her peripheral, and her mind clung to a feeling. That her love was soon to return, and keep his word.

Val was a few cups into her drink, her crew silently supporting her. Watching their captain be miserable was something new to them. They weren't sure what to do, as she was the one usually making everything right. Her head lay on the table, looking over the empty cups before her. She saw the worried looks from her crew, but just didn't have the energy to be their emotional heart right now.

"Cap'n," Smitty sat down beside her. "Me and the boys aren't good at this, but just know we be here for ye."

"Get me another drink, will you sweety?" Val slurred.

Smitty gently put a hand over hers, "Why don't ye go talk with your friends. I'll keep the boys in line."

Lorinda found herself with Leilani, and the shock of being friendly with a Drow still made her laugh from time to time. At that moment, she was grateful for the other woman. Elf and Drow, sharing their memories, their pain and helping each other heal. Leilani filled the druid in on the goings on at Kirann's school, and her own studies of her heritage. Lorinda told of her rise to being the leader, and how she missed the simpler life.

"He was one of my first friends," Lorinda said. "I didn't make friends easily, but he was just there. He stuck with me, even when I thought I had pushed him away. I never did understand why."

Leilani had an idea, "He had a student back home. This kid was a loner, a great student, but didn't get on with people easily. Kirann kept gently prodding him, pushing him out of his comfort zone. One day the kid finally fails, and I think Kirann might have made a mistake.

However, as this kid is at his lowest level, the other students come over to him and lift him back up. Soon he was running around with all sorts of friends. It turned out the kid was a loaner because he feared how others saw him. Once he had to face that, the walls he put up fell away.

Our friend seemed to understand this kid better than he did himself. He also had faith in his pupils, and their compassion for one another."

"Yeah, that sounds like him," Lorinda said tiredly. "I miss him."

"We all do," Leilani agreed.

Pain, that was all Manheim knew now. He wasn't sure which level of the Hells he was on, at one time he would have known. Instead sharp little teeth ripped him apart, only for his flesh to knit back together, and rent apart again. Though recently sent here, it felt like many lifetimes ago. Before his death, he had been powerful, now he was nothing. A victim to the darkest, most hellish things an imagination could conjure.

His torture was unending, no rest or respite, till a tall horned figure sent his torturers away. The new figure was power incarnate, raw, horrible power of the vilest kind. Even despite his fatigued mind, and the tortures he had endured, Manheim knew who it was. New fear sprouted in his heart, and it ran away like a galloping horse. Thumping in his chest like and infernal engine, the Human wizard felt like he was to die another time.

"Manheim," the horned figure rumbled. "You have a black heart, and are insidious to your core. I may have use yet for you. See, one of your old friends has put a kink into my plans. Part of it was due to Tyrannus underestimating this Aasimar. The same mistake you made, if I recall correctly. However, unlike my minion, you I can incentivize." The devil pulled up another tortured soul, and used it as a chair. "I can offer you a release, and with it power. You'll be one of my agents, all you need to do is destroy the resistance at this focal point.

Yes, I can see you want out of here. My minions here are good at what they do, and they do enjoy their duties. I can see their careful ministrations upon you. I would say you were strong, or you lasted long. Truth is, you're a little whiny bitch. However, you're a very resourceful one. I know you'll do anything to stay out of this place again, and I'm willing to let you on a leash, a short one, yet you'll take it. Won't you, Manheim?"

"I will serve, what is your command?" Manheim sputtered.

The tall horned devil gave a deathly horribly show of his teeth, "Reopen the portal and destroy these so called, 'Challengers.' Do this for me, and I may have other uses for you. Fail, and this will be a sweet wet dream of yours."

"Yes, Lord Asmodeus," Manheim replied.

With a burst of pain, the human wizard fell the ground screaming. Despite the horrid sensations burning away at him, he was unable to close his eyes. He was able to see his limbs turn red, fingers sprout black, deadly talons. He felt pressure on his head, as he rocked back and forth, Manheim felt the horns that had sprouted from his head. His feet turned cloven hoofed, and his teeth fell out, with pointed, dagger ones replacing the old ones. From behind, a long, barbed tail sprouted, causing Manheim to scream anew.

"Now get to work, imbecile," Asmodeus snapped his fingers, causing Manheim to disappear.

Al looked over the wounded, and those still alive. All brought here by an idea, and one that gave the Angel hope for the peoples of Faerun. They weren't here for riches, or to gain more power. Instead they were fighting Evil for the sake of others that could not. If only all the peoples could do that, then maybe people like his charge wouldn't be needed as often, and they could live simply.

His heart was solemn, yet he knew that Kirann was somewhere better. He was probably in the Heavens now, and Al knew he was in the most beautiful part. That was the fate he deserved, to find peace after so much conflict in his life. Al's only regret was that Kirann hadn't gotten to see the next generation take over, for they were present here. The next set of Challengers would come from those gathered here, seeing the heroes of old in one final battle.

As he mused, he felt a touch, something divine reach out. Warmth flooded him, pure light flowing into him. Wounds healing, the mending came with a message, such a wondrous message. He felt rapturous pleasure fill him, giddiness pouring forth, making the Angel feel like a mortal child. Soon everyone would hear the message delivered to him, but for him, his next action was to prepare. There was much to do, much to prepare for before the morning. Night may have fallen, but a new dawn was about to rise.


	60. Chapter 60

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part LX

Manheim was vomited into the world again, expelled out like hellish phlegm in his new form. Before him, Malena lay on the ground, a massive crease across her skull. The hated Dwarf's axe had wounded her badly. Walking over to her, the newly formed Devil, Manheim cast a siphoning spell. Instead of using his own strength to fuel the portal opening, he used hers. She screamed in betrayal, but could do nothing to stop him.

"See, you can still be of use," Manheim smiled as the portal began to open again.

Scouts moving about the lines saw Manheim, and reported back his attempts to reopen the portal. In the wee morning hours Lord Wallace and the wizard Bruce were roused out of their cots. Tired, with sleep still calling to them, they were brought in to hear the reports, and soon were wide awake.

"Get the Challengers immediately," commanded Lord Wallace. "Let us pray they have one more miracle up their sleeves."

Minutes later, the remaining members of the Challengers were being briefed. It was quite simple, if the Devil opened the portal back up, the defenders would face increasing numbers. That and opening the portal would continue to weaken the fabric of reality at this place of power. Lord Wallace needed them to stop this, and keep the area safe. How, was still to be determined.

Lord Wallace had given them less than an hour to decide the best course of action, before he ordered the forces forward. He would keep a small number in reserve, just in case the main force failed. However, it was guessed that a massive assault would lead to staggering casualties. Ones they had limited so far by pure strategy and luck. It was up to the Challengers to be the equalizers.

After several minutes of conversation, they devolved into chaotic arguments. Walton favored a frontal assault, to keep the attention on them. Val wanted to use the army's charge as a diversion, and attack the Devil opening the portal. Leilani advocated for a long range attack using magic, and then a quick portal in attack to finish the Devil off. There was no consensus.

Quickly it was coming time to meet back up with Lord Wallace, and the once mighty group were looking anything but. It was then that Raven stood up and told them what they were going to do. This role had been what Kirann had done best. Respected by his friends, they never took his directness as an insult, but a needed focus for consensus. Earlier in their travels, her doing this would not have ended the argument, but instead would have instigated more strife.

Instead the group fell silent, as her voice carried the air of command to it. Not one of magical means, or one borne of her bardic arts. No, this came from a sense of trust, and comradery to it. The closest to their fallen leader, the one he had chosen over all to share his life with. One that had been found just as worthy as he had been, but due to her own deeds. In short, they all knew she deserved the voice she now used succinctly.

"We are going to portal in, and cause havoc amongst their ranks. We'll have Bruce keep the portal open, so that once we have completed the mission, we can pass back through. That means Lorinda, Leilani, we'll need you to guard it, using your spells. Walton you and I will stop that Devil, and keep the portal from stabilizing," she said as if it would be simple, all the while her knees felt weak and she fought to keep the fear out of her voice. "Those who remain will need to run back through. I wish I could say we would all make it through, but we are being asked to save those we hold dear. We are just pieces on a grand board though, and our fates determined by the dice of destiny. Here and now though, we can do what we do best, and make a stand, to challenge fate."

"Are you sure?" asked Walton. "This is a plan that Kirann would suggest, one that would be so crazy it would work. But we don't have him any longer."

"He is with us all!" Val countered, her visage turning briefly angry.

Raven held up her hand to call quiet to the group, "He told us he'd return. I know most of you believe him to be gone forever, and I can respect that. That being said, he is with us, and he'll be with us on this day.

Just as we remember his spartan speech, to his undying loyalty to doing what he thought was right. Remember the man who saw something in all of us, knew we could be more than what the world thought we could. Who gave us a place and a friend that ensured we could be the best possible people we could be? The legends of Sun Warrior Kiran Lichtus talk about his powers, his martial ability, but I say his greatest strength, was in seeing us as we could be.

I know, he loved me, a Tiefling and the opposite of his Aasimar nature. Despite our differences, he saw what connected us. From those connections we have become family. A very odd family, but one nonetheless. One that I would be happy to spend the rest of my days with, even if they be but a bare scant moments."

"Well, after such a speech, how could we not agree to this plan?" Walton smiled broadly. "You have my blade."

The others joined in, and the Challengers began to feel and talk like the great adventurers they were. United, ready for battle, they met with Lord Wallace and the wizard, Bruce. They relay their plan, and though there is pushback, all is agreed to. The die is cast, the forces in motion, and a very sad Lord Wallace seemed to age another decade in mere seconds. There was so much he wanted to say, but just not enough time. He has much to thank them for, just in case this was the last time he saw them.

He pushed that aside though, as he strode out to where his horse was prepared. Mounting it in full armor, he pulled his sward from its scabbard. Bruce had tried to talk him out of this course of action, but he had to remind the wizard of an important fact. He would not ask anyone to do something, he wasn't willing to do himself. If he was going to ask the Challengers to complete a suicidal mission, he could and would lead the attack on the demons. His only surprise was when Bruce mounted up beside him.

"Just what do you think you are doing?" Lord Wallace asked.

Bruce shot him a wizened look of eternal patience, "I am not one to let my friend to ride off into battle alone. Besides, your wife would kill me if I came back without you, and a decent amount of scars."

"Crazy wizard," Lord Wallace chuckled.

Bruce raised an eyebrow, "Impertinent knight." Then with all mirth gone, he said next, "Is the word given?"

"The word is," Lord Wallace nodded. "Attack!"

Wizards, sorcerers and some druids launched long ranged spell attacks at the started demon army. Behind Lord Wallace and Bruce galloped a score of heavily armored knights on horseback. Following behind them were running pikeman and swordsmen. Archers shot their deadly missiles, scurried forward, stopped and launched more ammunition towards the demons. Scouts had gone ahead and harassed those demons on the outside flanks.

Manheim kept his concentration up, but he spared a few glances at the foolish mortals. They were running to their deaths, as the demons began to react. Taking over for Malena, he released them from their leashes. Now they would murder, mutilate and destroy all before them. At least up to a five-mile radius around where he was opening the portal. They were simple things, and he felt confident that he could reign them in later, when he needed them.

He almost didn't see the portal open, and a small party leapt out. He wasn't shocked that they were his old comrades, and he did pull control of several demons back just for them. He sent his forces to intercept the Challengers, only to be shocked as they attacked everything in sight. They gave such a state of chaos, the demons themselves would have been impressed with the disorder they were meting out.

Walton slammed his blade into one demon, pulsing holy power through the sword. The demon's head exploded into darkness and its body disappeared. He brought another slash around, lopping two arms off a six-armed fiend. He moved to another target, as a lithe Half-Elf figure finished off the wounded fiend. Behind him Leilani and Lorinda were casting their spells, and he saw one demon simply disintegrate.

Beside him, Raven was strumming her guitar, and as a target neared her, it found itself impaled on her sword tip. She followed it up with a savage chop, that took the thing's head. Another came, but she sent out a spell and the thing fell to the ground crying in pain. From the smell coming off of it, he knew it had to be some type of acid attack. Another came at her back, but Walton sent it to the Hells in two pieces.

"Legends never die! When the world is calling you, can you hear them screaming out your name!" Raven sung.

The Challengers felt strength and energy surge through them, and they laid into the demons between them and the Devil. For his part, Manheim found it harder to concentrate, as they kept getting closer. So, he siphoned a bit of his concentration, to send Malena after them. The other Devil sprang savagely at the coming heroes, and he was sure that would keep them busy till he could deal with them sufficiently.

By that time, Malena should have been fully healed. However, with Manheim using her abilities for his own needs, her healing had been severely halted. As such, she fought with no reason or pattern. She was no better than the savage demons with her, just a pure agent of chaos spreading Evil. Somewhere deep in her mind, the Devil howled against this, as it went against her very nature.

Walton found himself hitting the ground hard, and his breath left him. He was getting too old for this, but he would be damned if he felled like this. He found his feet, and even managed to counterattack. Only for a demon to plow into him, its hideous jaws aiming straight for his throat. Its taloned hands tearing at his metal armor, and he could feel it starting to give under the assault. He pushed back, with the leverage too much for him to overcome. This was going to be the day he died.

"Let him go you foul beast!" a very familiar, very young voice said.

With it came an elegant, but deadly sword blade biting into the demon. It howled and raised just enough for Walton to finish it off with a quick stab. Then he rolled, just as the thing fell lifeless, and prevented it from trapping him underneath its mass. The newcomer helped him up, and even before setting eyes on her, he knew who had come to his aid.

"I thought I told you to stay with the defenders, Kyla," he said painfully.

Thinking quickly, she laid her hands on him and he felt the healing energy travel throughout his body. He wasn't back at full health, but at least he didn't hurt as bad as he had before. His student had learned her lessons well, and she had shown great courage to come after him. Just enough that he could forget that she had disobeyed his orders to her.

"With respect, teacher," she said. "One more out there wasn't going to make a difference, but one more here might tip the scales in our favor."

"Don't get used to disobeying orders," Walton growled.

His irritation was short lived as Val appeared beside him, "Don't you worry, he's just grumpy because you pulled a Kirann."

The rogue was gone again, leaving Walton scowling, but knowing they couldn't tarry any longer. He motioned for Kyla to follow, and they rushed forward. Leilani cast a fireball spell that hit the Devil running straight at Raven. The female Devil howled, and picked up a nearby demon, chucking it at the Drow sorceress. Leilani dodged it, but found herself facing a demon coming at her.

Luckily for her, Lorinda cast a quick spell and the demon tripped. Leilani quickly stabbed it in the neck, before unleashing a hail of magic missiles into the horde of demons. She felt bardic magic wash over her again as Raven's song kept going.

Meanwhile Val was fighting like a madwoman. Jumping from target to target, letting her short swords rip into demon flesh. Every twist and turn a combination of beautiful agility and savage destruction. She landed behind one demon, slicing the tendon's in its legs, and right before a large demon grabbed ahold of her. The rogue found herself slammed into the ground, and she barely held onto her weapons.

Kyla and Walton were overwhelmed soon, barely holding back the number of demons attacking them. Even Leilani and Lorinda were having to trade spell with martial attacks, as more and more demons swarmed over them. That left Raven alone, and with just one chance. The two paladins had drawn enough of the demons' attention, that gave her one last option. It would be her last if successful.

"…They suffer through harm, just to touch a dream," she sung as she rushed forward.

Leaping off one demon, she came down slashing on another. Two more steps was all it took, and she felt sharp talons rip through her armor. She disregarded it, focused on just one action. Even as more hits came, she brought her sword down and let out a primal yell. Hope surged as she saw her blow land and the Devil howl.

With his concentration broken, the portal collapsed. Turning he backhanded the bard, and she rolled across the ground. Her blood mixed with the dirt beneath her, and her armor was nearly gone. He roared and sent out a magical blast, that somehow she dodged. Incredulously, she leapt out of its way and took out another demon. Then, as her wounds caught up with her, she fell to her knees.

"They become a part of you…Every time you bleed for reaching for greatness….Legends never die," she sang as it became more difficult to breath and her energy waned.

She looked up, seeing the coming down, with the first rays of light piercing the sky. A new day had dawned, and they had done their job. The people had another day of hope, another day for a miracle to come. They would need to fight for it, need to suffer for their happy ending, but the Challengers had given them a chance.

A chance where once had not been before, how many times had they done this over the years? She smiled, knowing Kirann would be proud, but more importantly, she was very proud of herself. Raven, no, Jessica Umbra, now Jessica Lichtus, had done this. The person she was meant to be was fierce, powerful, but most importantly caring and loving. Her power came not from just martial strength, but the inspiring arts.

"I should have killed you from the start," Manheim the Devil said. "You think you have won? Your friends are dead, your sacrifice meaningless, and for what? I'll reopen the portal and all that you love will come to an end. Asmodeus will reward me well, and may just let me have you to torture for all time."

"You talk too much," Raven shot back.

She stabbed forward as she did. The attack wouldn't be fatal, and probably wouldn't even hinder the man turned Devil. However, her point was made. She was not going to go quietly into the night. She was going to fight back, and to her very last breath. As if realizing this, Manheim growled as a spell erupted in his hand, and he flung it.


	61. Chapter 61

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part LXI

Blinding light exploded all around, and Raven was blinded. Half of Manheim disappeared in an instance, and the demons in a fifty-foot radius just fell to the ground as mounds of dust. All around the Challengers fall back, grateful for the brief respite and unsure what had just occurred. Only one knows where to look, and as her vision returns, she can fell her hope surge.

"Sorry I'm late," Kirann said. "I'm afraid we only have a brief moment."

Strength returned to the Challengers, wounds were healed and for Walton, the years melted away. He stood again as he had a decade before, at his full strength and with none of the ravages of age. He too was speechless, as the voice of his friend is both recognizable and different. A reverberation, almost an echo comes as Kirann speaks, and the very act of his speech sends reverent chills down the paladin's spine. His student is already kneeling.

"Stop! Rise, Kyla Whisperwood!" Kirann said. "Those who have fought and bled with me, shall not kneel."

Kyla rises, but reluctantly. This being, has the shape and bearing of a deity. Every reverent instinct tells her to prostrate before this being, that he is a god. Yet, he embraces his old party, and he speaks to them as equals. Only Raven is given special treatment, as he lovingly embraces her.

"You didn't keep what I gave you did you?" he asked.

Raven blushed, "We were supposed to eat them together!"

"This is true," he said, and he held out an apple, an elixir and Ambrosia. "Here, our time is short."

"What about…" She started to ask, as he pulled out an apple of his own, and his own Ambrosia.

"Through Eternity, a thousand lives, you I would choose," he said as he bit into his apple. "Nevermore are we to be separated."

She followed suit, not sure what to expect. Warmth spread through her. The warmth one gets while sunning on a warm day. The feel of the sun gently caressing your skin, as the cool winds flow over you. She smelled heavenly orchards, and the baking of sweets off in the distance. Raven felt the gentle caress of a lover, her lover, and the taste of sweets on her tongue. Heavenly melodies rung through the air and she began to hear a multitude of music from countless worlds all around her.

Val watched as Kirann and Raven finished, and the Tiefling bard began to glow and speak just like the monk. Something had changed, and they were now more than they had been before. Power rolled off of them, the power of creation and destruction, the power only meant for the Gods. Tears streamed down her face at the beauty of what she was seeing, something so rare it would be forever recorded into legend, Ascension.

Kirann walked over to her, handing her a bottled elixir, "Drink this." Then to Leilani he handed a parchment with directions, ingredients and everything she needed. "This will remake the elixir. Find the materials, you will guard this knowledge. Only those who prove themselves worthy."

Time was running short, as Kirann had only slowed time down. Just enough to give his team the edge they needed. This battle was still far from a sure thing, but now their chances had gone from slim, to possible. Especially as he was joining them, and he was bringing one more surprise. He took his place in front of the newly made Devil, Manheim.

"Time after time, you have chosen Evil," he said. "Return to Asmodeus, never darken this world again."

Manheim unleashed a barrage of Hellfire, "You think yourself so perfect, so holy, I'll rip off your head and present it to Asmodeus!"

Kirann waved his hand and the Hellfire vanished, "Now! Al, it is time!"

Above the demon army, Angels appeared in the sky. Their holy wings shone down brightly. Holy weapons flashed, destroying demons. Howls of demons intermixed with divine war cries, and one of the loudest was a Dwarf in gleaming armor. Armed with a two headed axe, Boris laid into the evil army with the same glee as he had in life. Borrowed from his rest by Al, and with special permission by Moradin himself.

"Raven, a song," Kirann called, hands glowing as he prepared to strike.

She obliged, and the Challengers returned to the battle. Malena had regained more of herself, now that Manheim had his concentration broken. She went to flee, only to find Kyla and Walton waiting for her. Manheim struck at Kirann, only for him to dodge and Raven to slice into his devil body. He screamed, only for Kirann's blast of energy to take his jaw off. Val leaped onto his back, laying him open with her blades. Meanwhile Lorinda and Leilani sent their destructive spells at Malena, and nearly end her there.

Lord Wallace couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing. Angels and Demons, battling it out, with the allied people under his banner joining in. A sight that was a once in a myth's lifetime, but then he saw what he could only say was Kirann. That was enough to break his discipline, and the reserve a commander needed. He looked over to his confidant, friend and court wizard, Bruce.

"Do my eyes deceive me, my friend?" he asked.

Bruce laughed, "If they are, so are mine. How in all that is holy did he manage this?"

"Well come on men, before the Challengers and the Angels take all the glory," Lord Wallace called out. His sword bare and ready, he pushed his horse forward, hitting two demons as he did.

Bruce smiled and followed his friend. From horseback, he slung deadly spell after deadly spell with perfect precision. Demons fell as the army of mortals, and the army of Angels crashed into them. Some of the people fell, but they died for something greater than land, creed or royalty. They lived, fought and died for people they would never see, for those that would come after them. One could see their souls immediately rising to the Heavens as they fell, where they would be welcomed.

Manheim ran from Kirann and Raven. Subvocally he began a final spell, for he knew soon this body would wear out. He would then be returned to the Hells, and Asmodeus would punish him for his failure. However, he wasn't the only power seeking to disrupt the status quo. Manheim had come across another in his studies, before his untimely death. A power greater than any God on this plane of existence.

He finished, with his last gasp, a hole opened in the sky above. Darkness crawled out, along with nasty tendrils connected to an Illithid similar shape. He let out a satisfied gurgle as the figure turned slowly, as if realizing an opening had been made. Even the appearance of Asmodeus couldn't convince Manheim he had lost. The Ancient One had been contacted, and it had a way into this world now.

"What have you done, you imbecile?!" Asmodeus asked, pure fear in his voice.

What he and the others were seeing was beyond all imagination. This was a force beyond descriptions of Good and Evil. Shaped like a man, with a squid like head, flapping wings, cloven feet and a barbed tail, this thing was an outsider. Unlike the Overlord Ao, this thing's power didn't come from this reality, but somewhere else. This somewhere else was a place of darkness and brackish water. Its glowing red eyes were hungry as it started forward.

"Here we are, don't turn away now," Raven sung. "We are the warriors that.."

Kirann sent a blast of energy into Manheim, mortally wounding the recently turned Devil. He then pulled in a massive blast of energy and threw it straight at the Outsider. The thing howled in pain, and slapped at itself to put out the flames erupting over its body. Again he did this again, and the thing backed off even more.

"Now, Raven!" Kirann called.

She responded by thrusting out her hand, song still on her lips, "Here we are, don't turn away now. We are the warriors that…"

The hole in the sky slammed shut, sending a shockwave that was heard across the region. The thing on the other side let out an angry screech, causing everyone except Raven and Kirann to grasp at their ears. Some were so affected, they fell to the ground crying in fear, with the Angels recovering first.

Seeing the demons losing, Asmodeus sent them all back to the Hells. At which time he turned to leave, only to be faced with an angry Aasimar. Before the Devil turned God could react, the monk slammed a fist into his chest. Asmodeus felt weakness spread as Kirann pulled his hand back out, a tiny, writhing, incorporeal thing with him. Shock replaced pain, as this wasn't possible.

"How? Only the Liberator…" Asmodeus coughed.

Kirann responded, "This doesn't belong to you. A prophecy all misunderstood, and you targeted a future savior."

"You will pay for this!" Asmodeus cried, as he crawled away.

Trying as he might, to pull enough energy to leave this plane. Just as Raven as about to stab him, he managed to escape. Cursing the whole time, and unsure what had just happened. The power he had stolen, and corrupted was gone, but he could still feel his godhood on him. This wasn't the first time he had been badly wounded, but it would be the last. The question now, was how to regain his power, before the other Devils figured out he was weakened.

Back with the Challengers, the edge of the fight wore off, and so did the temporary effects Kirann had mustered. Walton found himself back to his real age, and with painful wounds. His younger self had been able to shrug them off, but his older self would forever carry them. Lorinda needed Leilani's help patching up her own wounds, as many burned from the weapons of the demons. Meanwhile, Val watched as her wounds began to slowly heal before her eyes. The only one to come out mostly unscathed, was Leilani.

Kirann and Raven stood holding one another, bathed in the light of a new day's sun. The wriggling piece of soul that he had removed from Asmodeus, lifted into the air and flew straight into the rising sun. Behind them and following it seemed to be a chorus of divine harps and voices rising to crescendo.

Just as the little piece of soul reached its destination, Kirann heard the thanks of a thankful deity. What had been stolen years ago, was returned, and again the balance of power between Good and Evil, leveled out. It did not stop the summons that both he and Raven felt, their time among their friends coming fast to a close. As all things change, as they tend to stay the same, sometimes it was the intervals between the two that caused the most drama.

Kirann cast healing spells on his friends, knowing this would restore them, but not reverse some of the wounds they had received. They had fought, and that fight was meant to take their sacrifice. They had put up their health, future and well being to defeat great Evil, and most would be returned, not all. Still, he would give them as much back as he could. They were good people, ones worthy bending the rules for.

"Raven and I need to leave soon," he said to the other Challengers. "Know we are never far, and always close. Just call out and we'll return when we can."

Raven nodded, "Every year we can meet up in Altamar, celebrate our travels together. Though we all are about to go our separate ways, we will forever be connected. We are a family now, and ever after."

Val was sniffing, "Stop it you two! All this dust around here, makin' me tear up."

Kirann brought her close, "Your heart, your strength, never let it darken. I can't wait to see what you do with immortality."

Raven hugged both Leilani and Lorinda, "You both have been my sisters. I'll be checking in on you two, and dropping by to catch up when I can."

To Walton, Kirann clasped the paladin's arm, "Always a good man, you became a great one. Your student here reflects well on you. I will await you at the gates, and a place you'll always have with us."

By now Lord Wallace had made it to where the Challengers were. Bloodied, slightly wounded, and covered with demon ichor, a light was in his eyes. He saluted the returned monk, while his wizard, Bruce clapped for the heroes. Behind them, the whole gathered army of defenders kneeled in salute of the heroes.

"We must leave now," Kirann said. "When the need is greatest, when the hour darkest, we'll return."


	62. Chapter 62

Forgotten Realms:

Angels and Demons

Part LXII

So, the tale of the Challengers, at least this version came to a close. Others would take up the name, and some would become legends in their own right. For the first set, they returned to their lives, knowing that they had been part of something great. Each year, they did meet in Altamar, with Kirann and Raven waiting on them. They would commemorate and rejoice, to leave two days later, returning back to their duties.

Val went back to her ship and explored the seas and oceans of the world. She and her crew were thought to be pirates by many nations, and welcome heroes by many more. A result of the elixir she was given, was that the Half-Elf would outlive her crew, and their children. Eventually she would travel the land masses she had found, but always made it back for the yearly meetings.

Lorinda became one of the wisest and most powerful Arch Druids her order had ever seen. Through her travels, she had learned how to temper herself, and when to let her true nature show through. As such, she shepherded many students and druids through trying times, and gave counsel as wise as it was direct. She never felt far from her old friend, as she could almost see him in the corner of her eye every day. He also never forgot to answer her, when she called out his name.

Walton returned to his fort, glad to be home and around his family. He never adventured again, but was no slouch in training his people or defense of his fort. Known as a bear of a man, and a big softy to women and children, he lived a few decades longer than most humans did. Through it all, he developed a sense of humor about his travels and scars. He even began to tell curious people, that the reason he didn't adventure any more, was because he took an arrow to the knee.

Daggarth heard of the Challengers victory, carried months later by traders to Icewind Dale. He couldn't help but raise a few rounds to the group. Though not as close to them as he should have been, he would relish in their victory. He had learned from them how to be better than he had been before. Welcomed back into his tribe, he soon became their most cunning and strongest warrior. He was also the first one to spare an enemy, and refused to kill enemies that couldn't fight any longer. Though never a chief or leader, Daggarth became very respected by his people.

Lord Wallace returned to Altamar. There he was met with relief by his daughter, who had held the people together in his absence. So well did she do this, that he decided to let her continue ruling, with him becoming more of an advisor to her behind the scenes. Though without the stresses of ruling himself, he soon found it to be more stressful. Yet, with each day, his daughter made his decision a very wise one. She led well, and became very beloved by the people of Altamar.

The one thing he didn't disagree with, was having the freedom to travel again. He and Bruce would see the lands surrounding Altamar. From time to time, he would even meet with the leaders of the surrounding towns and cities, becoming a de facto ambassador. His face becoming almost as famous in Tyranfal as it was in Altamar. As well, he found reasons to drop in on the Sun Soul monk monastery frequently. Then there were the yearly visits from the Challengers that he tried not to miss.

Leilani spent time finding all the material to make her own Elixir of Immortality. She then hid the recipe, using her powers to make sure only those worthy could attain it. As she did, she felt divine magic intertwine with hers, and she smiled, knowing they were still with her. Then she returned to her home, a newly built tower on Kirann's school grounds.

There she went into his cabin, wondering if the magic was still active, and wasn't disappointed. As she walked into his home, his grand mansion was there. Including all the beings that inhabited it. Curiously though, the whole mansion was now built in the mountains, with crisp cool air all around. Grand evergreen trees reached to the sky, and she could see an epic peak that stabbed into the sky. She knew that is where Kirann would be, meditating.

Coming from the courtyard were the sounds of melodious music, and the Drow moved toward it. There she found being of all races, and animals of all type sitting in awe of Raven's playing. The bard gave her an acknowledging nod, while continuing to entertain those in audience. As she did, lightning and fire lit up the sky, producing brief images that went alongside the story she sang. Leilani had to admit, it was impressive.

As for Kirann and Raven, they were taken from the battlefield by Al, and led to the great forge of Moradin. Told by the angel that Gods deserved divine weapons, to which Kirann had to remind his old guardian, that he was a monk. However, he followed, as a whole new world was there to explore with his love, Raven.

The Dwarven God Moradin met the duo, light beaming in his eyes as the sound of a multitude of smiths echoed about. He led them to the great forge, and around it smiths of all varieties and styles worked away at their forges. Each a master of their craft, each making exquisite works of art, that just happened to be armor, arms and other useful things.

"I was told to ask for a special smith," Kirann said.

Moradin nodded proudly, "Biggest heart I be knowin' and as trusty as any Dwarf. You be wantin' Oohgie, and he's over here."

The Dwarven God led Kirann and Raven to a nine-foot-tall Ogre, pounding away on a massive forge. An innocent smile plastered across his face, one from having attained a dream and the peace that came with it. He turned quickly, but not out of fright, as Moradin called his name.

"Oohgie, ye be havin' more visitors requirin' your special skills," Moradin said. "Now, I leave you two, but stop by on the way out. Got some fine Dwarven Ale to be sharin' with ye."

"Hello friends," Oohgie let out an excited exclamation. "Oohgie, crafty-smith make amor for you?"

"Yes, a friend told us you make the best armor," Kirann said.

The Ogre seemed exceptionally happy, "Oohgie do his best! Oohgie make good armor for you!"

Around Faerun two new churches formed. Though these were different than other churches, and it wasn't just because of the story of the new gods. No, these churches didn't need physical locations, though some did. They traveled the continent, and instead of spreading the word, they spread deeds. The members of these churches brought healing to those in pain, warmth to those left out in the cold, and security to those abandoned. Orphanages opened across Faerun, sheltering generations left without parents, due to strife and war.

The churches showed an Aasimar and a Tiefling, side by side ending suffering of all those they met. Inside a grand story was told, and the one piece left for this tale to tell. One pane showed a grand battle outside a city, and the Aasimar man splitting in two. His love for the woman fighting alongside him, anchoring him to the world below. Split in two, part of him Ascended, and learned to control the power of the Gods, that were his to command. The panes continued to the last, where the two parts recombined.

Following the last pane of the story stood two statues. Clad in simple, but elegant armor and arms, were the figures of Kiran Licthus and Jessica Umbra. Beneath them were name plates, naming Kirann's domain over Righteous Battle and Divine Retribution. Under Jessica's was her domain under Inspirational Art and Wanderers. Scribes had collected all the legends and information they could, but the most important was the last line you read.

"If you seek us, look at one another. Those who fight for right, live for love and let compassion guide them; will find us by their side."

To the students at Kirann's school, their master returned. He taught many, changed most and took those in that needed guidance. None who came thought their teacher, or his exotic wife were anything but what they seemed. They surely were just two, very kind, very compassionate people. There was no way that their similar names to those newly raised Gods, was anything but circumstantial.

So, life went on, and so did a Drow sorceress and a Half-Elf rogue. That though was a story for another time. One that would begin in a tavern, with new heroes taking up arms for a grand adventure. This was the wondrous world of adventure, one full of danger and daring. This was a world of Dungeons and Dragons.


End file.
